Jewish Ghosts

Old pictures presented a bustling market, creating a mirage in the square in front of me, not identifiable with today. Jewish ghosts lined the marketplace, congregating, gossiping, haggling, debating. Small sparrows flew in circles around the synagogue off in the distance, with giant lamps hanging over the doors. We wanted to step inside, but it was closed at the time. Usually, the synagogue is open to tourists, and there is a museum across the street. Around the corner, there are two Jewish restaurants. Around 40,000 tourists visit Tykocin each year.

The synagogue was one of the most imposing buildings in the town. It lies on the main road and has a wonderfully simplistic yet thought-provoking design. There is a certain charm about the synagogues in Poland, because for the most part this country is populated with churches. The churches can be monotonous because they carry similar grandiose styles, bent on making you awestruck by their magnificence. Sometimes you can come across some ill-advised 20^th century construction that surprises your senses, usually not in the best way. The churches are especially monotonous because they represent the same thing. A perspective. When you experience 98% of the same perspective spiritually, and as an extension aesthetically, it can become too commonplace, and less eye-opening. The synagogues on the other hand provide a highly distinct alternative to the ubiquitous church, and they are a testimony to the pre-war amalgam prevalent across Poland. This is something that you must think about while visiting a place like Poland. Understanding the path to a homogenous present sheds light on the deeper reasoning and identities that currently exist, and allows you to fully grasp the consequences of the past. The Tykocin synagogue is a beautiful representation of difference, with its bulging roof and oversized windows. It casts shadows on the buildings around it, but not in an attempt to dominate, rather with the intention of providing importance. I am quite disappointed we didn’t have the chance to enter, because the interior is supposedly a wonderful example of synagogue artwork, with painted walls of verses from the Torah, and a decorated Bimah taking its place in the center of the room.

The Jewish community arrived to Poland in the 13^th century. From then on the Jewish people started developing special relationships with the landlords of the realm. When Jews were being persecuted in other parts of Europe during the 15^th century; notably Spain, Portugal, Austria, Hungary, and Germany; Polish nobles welcomed them in. Independent privileges were given to them, and districts were developed where Jewish life was able to flourish. Up until the mid-17^th century, a symbiotic relationship occurred, where both communities profited from working with the other. Then the Khmenetsky revolt happened. It was the first major atrocity perpetrated against Jews in Poland. Life for the Jews was never the same, and a prevailing anti-Semitism culminated in the most organized mass murder in the history of mankind, perpetrated by the Nazis during WWII. Just before the war, the Jewish population in Poland stood at around 10%, but that shot way up when you entered the cities, where the average percentage of the Jewish population was around 33%, and sometimes even up to 42% as in Lviv and 45% as in Vilnius.

Today the Jewish community is having somewhat of a revival. The Kazimierz district in Krakow is one of its most flourishing tourist destinations, and through this conduit of appreciation other facets of Jewish life are reappearing. The Museum of Jewish History, known more colloquially as Polin, was recently opened in Warsaw and has an incredible permanent exhibition of the long and complicated relationship that the perennial European “outsider” has had on Polish soil. Learning that history is vital for Poland’s future. It is necessary to have perspective outside of your own, and to understand that all agendas are relevant, because they are the agenda of another human being. Of course, in the vitriolic muck of an agenda of someone like Trump, you can understand that it is an attempt to feed a sociopathic ego, but this is an individualistic agenda at its core, and it will not catch on as a movement or a way of life. What I am talking about is an agenda nurtured by a group, or a culture, or a religion, or a community. Tolerance is the most important virtue in today’s world, and understanding cultural agendas outside of your own is the path towards this. Poland’s insistence to continuing promulgating a myopic view of Polish catholic martyrdom for the development of the nation is driving Poland and Poles towards isolation, and boosting tension both at home and abroad. In fact, Poland’s diverse path is its needed future.

Visiting three faiths, besides the major catholic one, was like visiting relics of a resplendent past, revealing the heterogeneity of Poland’s history. It’s a special experience in country that is hot-headed over issues of reviving Europe’s Christianity and being the protectors of its heritage. One can overlook Poland’s historical diversity, but if you are able to be informed, then it’s vital that you at least contemplate about the significant impact that these ghosts haunting the market place in Tykocin have had on contemporary Poland.

Teutonic Poland

I was standing in the hall of a moving train, watching the Mazovian plain wisp by. Intermittently a red pine forests would obscure my view, and then, in the blink of the eye, it would go back to the long yellow grain fields. In Mazovia there’s not much variation in the landscape, but you can tell you’ve entered Mazury when that changes. The terrain starts to softly undulate and the energy begins to localize in the towns between the hills.

A friend of mine was leaving for his home back in Sweden. He spent 2 years in Poland, and at this point he felt like he hadn’t dropped anchor here, so he bought a new flat back in Stockholm and started contemplating his next step. As a going away present, his colleagues asked him if he would like to visit anywhere. He said, “castles with sword fighting.” They searched the internet and found the Teutonic castle at Nidzica. After hearing about it, I decided to join him for the day, because I too wanted to see castles and knights.

Poland has an astounding amount of Teutonic heritage. Nearly all of the well-preserved castles associated with the brotherhood are located within the Polish borders, with a few exceptions in the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad to the north. One of the most profound battles in European and world history happened between the Kingdom of Poland and the Teutonic Order in 1410. Called the Battle of Grunwald by the Poles and the Battle of Tannenberg by the Germans, the Teutonic loss was a humiliation that simmered in European politics for centuries and even influenced German propaganda in WW1 as well as the ideology of Hitler and consequently the German extermination tactics in Poland in WW2 through ‘Operation Tannenberg.’

All of the Teutonic castles in Poland are located in the north, in a region known as Mazury, more commonly called the Lake District. It’s an area that is traditionally considered the most underdeveloped part of Poland. Historically Mazury belonged to East Prussia, but this region of the Prussian empire was broken in two after Germany’s loss in WW2, and subsequently divided between the newly established communist People’s Republic of Poland, and the burgeoning Soviet Union. Suddenly, Poland had control over land it had never had direct control over before. Left behind in this stunning yet undeveloped region was the legacy of the Teutonic Order in the form of many gothic red brick castles.

Arriving in Nidzica, we were immediately greeted by the most communist brutalist train station I’ve seen so far in Poland. It was an eerie cement structure with a seemingly permanently closed cashier. Passing through the inside gave you a dusty chill down the spine. Exiting onto the street side there was an old red brick building that signified that we were now in former East Prussia. We caught site of a tourist information sign, and started to head off in that direction. Each sign turned us around another corner and pulled us towards the center of the small town of 15,000 inhabitants. In minutes we were passing through the main square where they were setting up a stage for a local summer concert. It’s amazing, when you’re living in Warsaw, you assume that there is no other activity going on anywhere around in Poland.

Another sign for the tourist office now pointed us around the castle, which we saw the towers of when we first entered the square. We thought it was best to get some information on our return train as well as other ideas on what we could do around Nidzica before we dived between the castle walls. We walked around the castle and found a sign pointing us back towards the castle. We walked up the hill and found another sign pointing us directly into the castle. Finally we realized that the tourist information office was situated in the middle of the castle courtyard.

We were greeted between the walls by costumed knights and medieval village folk, and an Egyptian snake charmer carrying a 10 foot yellow python. The Egyptian man asked us in Polish whether we would like to hold it for 15 PLN or not. In the center of the courtyard a number of the costumed villagers were dancing and singing, and on the other side of the courtyard we took a seat on a raised wooden pavilion and watched the show.

My friend and I ordered a couple of beers, and we started to talk. He told me the story about his Swedish origins, and about how was actually part German. His grandfather came from Germany and eventually set up a business in Sweden where he collected and sold hardened moose droppings to eccentric German tourists. Soon after, we were invited inside the museum by the helpful tourist information clerk.

We walked around the castle for a while and admired the shockingly sadistic medieval weapons and torture devices. The castle was not heavily guarded so we got into parts that were apparently closed to normal tourists. We stumbled upon a darkened room at the top of the castle filled with preset checkerboards that seemed ready for a tournament to begin soon. Laying on a table was the grand prize, an authentic forged sword.

Just outside the castle walls another kind of tournament was taking place. Knights in unique and different armors were hacking at each other with more real swords, and referees were deciding who hacked best. We watched as new knights would enter the ring to challenge the winner, but we couldn’t understand the scoring standards. The knights would bash each other with the sword, and the referees would yell stop when they saw fit, and then point to who they thought was the winner. Some moments seemed downright dangerous as the referee stood less than a meter away from a swinging sword that would easily lodge itself an inch deep into his face. The event was enthralling and especially with the dramatic music from the Lord of the Rings and Star Wars the Phantom Menace playing over a PA system.

My friend explained that these kind of events never gain so much attraction back in Sweden, especially from the older population, and that’s one thing he liked about Poland. Poles love to get involved with reenactments and they take them seriously. From the knights of the middle age to the soldiers in WW1, you can find a lot of dedicated Polish enthusiasts.

As the day went on we enjoyed our time in the small town, a carefree breath of fresh air away from the troubles of the big city. Around the courtyard were some pictures hanging, about the Russian and German soldiers in Nidzica during WW1, and I noticed in one of them a cemetery that had been built for the fallen during those battles. It was easy to guess the location of it in the picture, and we were curious, so we made our way to see if it still existed. On our way there we realized that if we continued we probably wouldn’t have enough time to catch our train, so we turned away from it and instead headed towards the station.

While on the way back we came across another cemetery, the town cemetery, and decided to take a quick look. The first graves I saw all had German names. All the Germans were expelled when this land became Polish, so I assumed that they came back here just to be buried. I looked at one of them, his name was Bernard Ludwig Otello, and he was born in 1897. He had lived in Nidzica, it was called Neidenburg when he was living there, for 48 years before being forced to go somewhere else. He died in 1985, a good 40 years after he left. It’s hard to imagine being expelled from your land after almost 50 years of memories.  The German graves highlighted the German past, and revealed that this Polish land is close to the hearts of more than just its current inhabitants. 

“Excuse me, does the mister have a cigarette?”

The clouds have been covering Warsaw for the past few days, and the mood is starting to resemble that of my hometown back in the States. There are grey skies and lush green foliage, and it’s a stark oppressing contrast that keeps every conversation from getting overly exciting. People constantly say they are in forgetful and woeful moods, and everybody seems to be distracting themselves in order to make it through to the sunny days to come.

I want to take this moment to think about something peculiar about the Polish language, something that sets it apart from most other languages, and something that you encounter early on while learning it. It plays a distinct role in the character of the Polish language, and maybe even the character of the nation and people itself. It’s really worth a quick look at, and if anybody were to do some tests on the psychology of language, I’m sure this would play an important role in the understanding of the Polish soul. I’m talking about the formal language that is used when addressing a stranger or elder. The polite language. A form of language that we have lost in American English, probably due to our affinity for equality and our innate resentment of being controlled or manipulated.

You can find this concept in most other languages, addressing somebody as sir or madam, or in French as monsieur or mademoiselle, and usually it is accompanied by a certain structure that implies a distance from the one you are addressing. In French you use the 2nd person plural, for instance, “Excusez-moi monsieur, avez-vous une cigarette?” Although, today you don’t find many young French people using the terms monsieur or mademoiselle, and same goes for sir and madam. In Russian you address strangers with vy (вы), which is the 2nd person plural, for instance, “Izvinitye, vy znayete kak idti v biblioteku?” (Excuse me, do you know how to get to the library?) This structure extends to most other languages in the Indo-European family with a few exceptions.

Most of these exceptions don’t even use their version of polite speech anymore (Italian, Spanish, Lithuanian) but there is one that uses it profusely, and that is Polish. The exception is that, instead of using the 2nd person plural, they will use the 3rd person singular. So in English the sentence would sound something like this, “Excuse me, does the mister have a cigarette?” And yes, you are saying that to the person who you want the cigarette from. In Polish it looks like this, “Przepraszam, czy ma pan papierosa?” Pan means sir or mister, and Pani is the female equivalent. The title of the great poetic epic, “Pan Tadeusz,” by Adam Mickiewicz, actually translates to “Sir Thaddeus,” even though you will usually find it under its original Polish title. To dissect the previous phrase a little further, “ma” means “he/she has,” but translates here as “you have,” whereas the usual polite form in other languages would be “macie” in Polish, which really means “you have.”

Lithuanian used to operate with a similar construction, and this is probably due to the close historical ties that these two countries have had to each other, but due to Russian influence and the Soviet Union, nowadays it’s version of this is used very rarely. That’s not the case in Poland though. Everybody uses this formal method of addressing.

“Would the miss like anything else?”

“Does this mister have sliced gouda cheese?”

“Does the mister know if there are any more tickets for tomorrow’s show?”

It’s quite a strange world to live in where you cannot address anybody directly, and this is why I say that maybe it has some affect on the social consciousness of Poles.

There is a high level of civility in Poland, and they are often times very sensitive people. The elderly are well respected and get quite offended if you don’t address them properly. They are proud of their history, and this language is historical language, coming from the once great nobility that ruled the Polish plains. It’s also harder to connect to a Pole as a real close friend, and in my opinion this kind of language could have something to do with it.

Besides the rambunctious hooligans that walk the street during a Legia football match, Poland is an incredibly polite country. As a foreigner, and especially an American, this kind of speaking takes some getting used to, but as you start to notice it, you realize that there is something very dignified about it that can momentarily transport you to other epochs of courtship and knighthood in the past. It’s a good idea to traverse some of Warsaw’s bazaars, and you’ll notice how this level of politeness really brings Polish people together in their appreciation for treating each other with respect.

Thanks for reading, and if you have any opinions or knowledge about this subject, please let me know in the comments.

Lviv and Lwów, a European Palimpsest pt 1

Sitting across the table from me at the Kumpel’ gastropub and microbrewery near the center of Lviv was my host, Ivan. He was young, fit, and precocious, but often held his clenched fist hard against his left cheek, trying to hide the fact that he was cross-eyed. Ivan came from a Russian speaking family, and it was hard to get out of him whether he identified more as a Ukrainian or a Russian, but he explained to me that it would be wise not to use Russian in Lviv. 

With his fist still pressed against his cheek he told me, “Last week I hosted someone from Russia, and nobody would help her in the streets, because she was speaking only Russian. The opposite happened when I hosted a woman from Germany. She spoke English and everyone helped her.” I responded that despite knowing Russian I wouldn’t attempt to speak it in Lviv. Instead I would try my luck with bad Polish and some English.

***

There was a sign that pointed me the direction that I was intending to go, and I turned right down a sinuous cobblestone road. The sun is low on the blue horizon, even though it was midday. Its beams were cutting through the air around me making the weather crisp and invigorating. Suddenly the 19^th century building façade to the left disappeared and opened up to a vast empty contemplative square that evoked a feeling of the eternal. Across the square I saw a small stone wall, and the vibrant blue and yellow Ukrainian flag flying high next to a war memorial with bright bouquets of plastic flowers. Peeking out just beyond the low stone wall were the headstones of the Lychakiv cemetery.

I paid the few hryvna to enter, and the extra in order to take some photographs, then I grabbed a map and eagerly started my little expedition. Lychakiv is one of the oldest cemeteries in Europe, being founded in 1786. The great Pere Lachaise in Paris was first opened 18 years later in 1804. I spent most of my time looking for people that I might recognize, or trying to find the headstones that the map I bought recommended to me.  When I saw a unique sculpture I took a picture and tried to decipher who that person was and what he or she did to deserve such enchanting recognition after death.

There’s something humbling about wandering around such a cemetery, surrounded by the beauty, the inspiration and the expression of death. In a place like this it’s impossible not to put things into perspective. Every sculpture, every headstone represents the life of someone. From their resting place there evolved a new form, an immutable shape chiseled by a local artist to keep the memory of the withered body’s life alive forever. The most remarkable thing about walking here among the dead is the intense appreciation one begins to feel for life. The sound of the birds chirping becomes more pronounced, and the deep colors of brown, green and gray create a subtle longing. It is easy to contemplate love and poetry. Each individual stone is megalomaniacal yet at the same time admirable, and indubitably the eclectic pieces of art that you stumble upon in the great cemeteries of the world are always extraordinary.

My camera suddenly notified me that it could no longer read my memory card. This prompted me to take a more observant stroll, without being preoccupied with photography, listening to the rustling of the ivy on the trees and silence permeating from the stone graves. The beauty of this part of the world, the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, struck me hard.

I headed towards the sub-cemetery within Lychakiv that is dedicated to Polish war heroes who fought for Poland against the Soviets, as well as in other battles, during the years of the Republic between the two World Wars. This drives home the fact that this city does not have a linear past. There are layers upon layers of influence, and there is not one singular identity that exists in its history. Controlled initially by the Kingdom of Ruthenia, then the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, as well as by the Habsburgs, the Republic of Poland, the Soviet Union, and Ukraine; there is much diversity to be admired. In the cemetery you can see headstones from every epoch, with names like Franz von Hauer, the governor of the Kingdom of Galicia during the rule of the Austro-Hungarian empire; Ivan Franko, one of the most prominent writers in Ukrainian and a great reformer of the language; Artur Grottger, a great Polish painter known for painting epic battles; Viktor Chukarin, one of the first of the abundant and talented Soviet gymnasts.

Sectioned off with its own wall, I entered the monotone Cemetery of Eaglets, as it’s known in Polish. There were rows of diminutive white stone crosses with slim red and white bands wrapped around the top of the cross, each with a name of one of the men, and if possible some relevant information.  I read some of the names. Jerzy Sieradzki, age 19, student at the polytechnic university; Bolesław Wizimierski, age 47, second lieutenant in the Polish Army; Rozwadowski, age unkown, occupation unknown.  There were hundreds more.

This part of the cemetery was bulldozed by the Soviets in 1971 to make way for new apartments, a good statement about the attitude of the Soviet empire towards local and national identity. But luckily the buildings were never realized, and in 2005 renovation  was completed by the Ukrainian government (how it looked in 1997) and it was reopened (how it looks now), showing goodwill to their Polish neighbor. It’s a beautiful and quiet place, and it shows the profound importance that this city still has in Polish history, being once the third largest city in the nation, behind Warsaw and Łódź. Polish citizens make the trip often to Lviv to see a city that they often associate as a symbol of Poland’s historical glory.

Link to part 2

Photo taken by the author

Conversation With a 'Nationalist'

After writing my piece about the Independence Day marches in Warsaw I was contacted by someone who claimed to have attended the unofficial nationalist march. He wanted to correct a few things that I wrote, and I offered that it was better we meet in person to discuss about it. He agreed to meet, and I was looking forward to hearing what he had to say. We met at Antykwariat Bar on Żurawia Street in Warsaw. He was a short pudgy bald man with stubbles on his face, but with a contented disposition and a toothy smile. He did not drink because he was a member of the Polish scout organization, so I decided not to drink as well. After some friendly greetings near the entrance of the cozy side-street tavern, we sat down and the conversation went like this. [He asked me not to share his real name, so I have renamed him Paweł]

Paweł: I have to warn that I’m rather right-winged.

James: I’m very interested to talk to you, because I don’t meet very many people that are right-winged, because usually it’s difficult to meet people that think differently from yourself.

Paweł: Yes. Ok so feel free to ask anything you want.

James: So why did you decide to go [to the Independence March] in the first place 4 years ago?

Paweł: Well I heard about it, and I said, "it’s our Independence Day and I have to choose one [of the marches] to go to," and, how should I say it, here I knew there were my friends.

James: So your friends brought you there the first time?

Paweł: Yes, I went with them.

James: Are you in any specific movement?

Paweł: No, during the Independence Day march there are a lot of, for example, soccer supporters, but not only them, but different groups, and there are also many families who go to the march.

James: You’re a Legia supporter right?

Paweł: Yes, since 1997

James: I saw a lot of green at the march, does this have anything to do with the Legia team, because it’s their color

Paweł: No, it’s a National Radical Group [ONR], that is the straight translation. It’s a right winged movement created before the Second World War, and because of them we have some problems. Before the Second World War the ONR organized the ghetto Ławkowe. Jews and Poles were separated from each other in class. Jews were sitting on one side and Poles on the other. They also organized attacks on Jew’s shops, you know, breaking their window, and so on and so on. At the moment, if you hear that ONR organize anything, you think that it’s the same name as before, and so it will be against Jews, and than you would believe that it’s nationalist [like Nazism, and not like Paweł's nationalism]. That’s why even if we try not to be connected with those years, sorry, it’s impossible.

James: So if you’re not associated with them, why are you going to the march?

Paweł: To celebrate our Independence Day.

James: Can you tell me what you are feeling during this celebration?

Paweł: I’m proud that I’m from Poland. I’m proud that our history was not as easy as it could be. We were sometimes beaten up, but we never gave up. Even if you compare France in the Second World War, with more armed divisions than us, they were defeated during 45 days; Poland was defeated in 40 days, but not all of Poland. You know Warsaw was defeated and Warsaw surrendered, Poznan was defeated and surrendered, but not all of Poland. The Polish National Army, called AK, was the biggest army fighting against Germany. Poland is the only country that didn’t help the Wehrmacht. You can easily find the Slovakian Wehrmacht army, France, and so on, but not the Polish Army.

James: So there was nobody that moved over to the German side?

Paweł: There were the volksdeutsches in our Silesia region, but it was very different, because it was an easy choice. They ask you, “Are you a volksdeutsche?” If you answer yes, then here are your papers, if you answer no, then [he moves his hand to his head like a gun and shoots]. That’s the reason why so many people from Silesia defected to Germany, and they were usually first to do this. Ok, even at the moment some people want to reach some autonomy in Silesia, but they don’t want to be connected with the Germans. It’s also nationalism, but Silesian nationalism, like the Basques.

James: Where were you at the March? I was on the south side at the front of the March.

Paweł: I began at the front of the march, but then, after it started, I was rather in the middle.

James: I heard that Rondo Dmowskiego is named after the creator of the ONR.

Paweł: You know the story of Ireland. You’ve got the IRA, the terrorist organization, and you’ve got Sinn Fein, the party. So [Roman] Dmowski created the party and it was the beating heart [like Sinn Fein]. Between the First and Second World War you had two people fighting each other, which were Dmowski and Piłsudsksi, and they had two different ideas for Poland, and they hated each other, because Piłsudski was socialist and Dmowski was nationalist. Typical left-winded versus right-winged.

James: So the Independence March usually supports…?

Paweł: Usually Dmowski. Between the two World Wars we don’t have an easy story. Don’t forget that at one time we were divided between three countries, which would be Russia, Austro-Hungary, and Germany.

James: Yes, the Independence after the First World War was your first Independence after 123 years. It’s difficult to come out of that and be stable.

Paweł: So [after the First World War] we were attacked by Russians at the Wisła. We've got a very bad geo-political situation. Between Russia and Germany. Always. But, we were the only ones to ever conquer both Crimea and Moscow. Of course Napoleon was also in Moscow, but this city was abandoned. We put our king in Moscow, and we were there for 4 years, at the beginning of the 17^th century.

James: 4 years is a fair amount of time. Longer than Napoleon.

Paweł: Yes, in 1612 they [the Russians] fought back. Why!?

James: I’ve heard the date 1612 before. It seems to be pretty significant.

Paweł: You can watch a film named 1612 about how they [the Russians] fought back for their kingdom.

James: What kind of famous people were at the march? What are some notable and important names?

Paweł: We’ve got guests from Jobbik, the Norwegian Nationalist Party, from  Italy’s Forza Nuova.

James: And they come here [Warsaw] to support the march?

Paweł: Yes.

James: Ok but what about Polish people, for example, the former president’s brother Jarosław Kaczyński? Was he at the March?

Paweł: No he wasn't there.

James: Are there any politicians that go?

Paweł: Yes, but from very small parties.

James: There were a lot of people at the march.

Paweł: Somebody estimated that there were about 100,000 people. It was between 30,000 to 100,000 people.

James: You said there were a lot of different groups of people. At the beginning I was standing at the front and I saw these green flags of ONR and this big truck that was playing music, and I thought it was mainly ONR supporters, but then I saw how many people there were, and that changed my mind. Did you talk to anybody at the march, for instance the people standing next to you? Did you talk to people that you didn’t know?

Paweł: No, no, no, we were marching. We were chanting some things, usually against communism, and also against our politicians, our Polish politicians. You know you probably will ask why we have more than one march.

James: I've heard that this Independence March was always causing trouble and that’s why they created the official Presidential March, in order to counteract the other group.

Paweł: Do you like theories of conspiracy?

James: Go for it. Shoot.

Paweł: Komorowski’s [the President] march was not so popular, less than 10,000 people. They want to show that there are two different marches. One where everybody is nice, everybody is kind to each other. And the second one, if you will check the internet, you will easily find a video where we’ve got a guy with a police uniform on, and he’s wearing a football supporter scarf. That’s one of the reasons why some people said it was police action against the Independence March, so they can show that Komorowski’s march is good and the Independence March is bad.

James: Ok, I don’t really understand.

Paweł: A reason why no one is going to the Komorowski’s March is because of what he’s done during his term. For example, try to imagine that Obama will reveal a monument connected to Japanese pilots that died during the attack on Pearl Harbor.

James: Yeah that certainly wouldn't go well.

Paweł: Komorowski was supporting this kind of monument connected with Russian soldiers who died during the Miracle at the Wisła.

James: Did it go up?

Paweł: I’m not so sure, but I know that they wanted to create this monument. Another thing. The first of May is May Day. The third of May is our Constitution Day. So we created a holiday in between these two days called Flag Day. And last year, for the celebration, Komorowski created an eagle out of chocolate, as you know the symbol of Poland is an eagle. Try to imagine an American eagle created from chocolate! And some people were raising flags with the names of sponsors. It’s Polish Flag Day, what the fuck are they doing!

James: Where were you on Polish Flag day?

Paweł: I don’t remember, but I was away from that celebration. It’s not that important of a day, the more important is the third day [Constitution Day]. The second of May was created, because you should hang a flag for the third of May, but it’s not needed for the first of May. But people would hang the flag and leave for the long weekend.

James: So people get a little lazy and they want to hang the flag before they leave and not have to worry about it.

Paweł: That’s true. However I’ve got a special task for you. Next November 11^th, look around Warsaw and try to count how many flags you can see.

James: It was amazing how many I saw at the march.

Paweł: No not during the march, but in the windows.

James: Can you give me an idea of what I’d be looking at? Is there a lot?

Paweł: One per block of flats, sometimes even less. You can see more in suburbia.

James: So do you hang up a flag for Independence Day?

Paweł: I always hang it.

James: Are you in a block of flats?

Paweł: Yes, on the 7^th floor. I've got a special hanger that I put out the window.

James: Ok well this is a lot to think about. Let me think. I kept on hearing these firecrackers that went off, and they really made my heart stop, because it would go off right next to me and I had no idea that that was going to happen.

Paweł: About pyro we have some strange laws. We can officially only use it on the New Year’s Eve. If you fire it up every day you can be sentenced for I don’t know how long. During News Year’s Eve we have a lot of people who get injured, but no one says it should be banned, because it’s tradition. But if you use it during the Independence March for example than they say, “Ban it! Kill him!”

James: But there was a lot of pyro at this march.

Paweł: Yes. This is one of the ways we celebrate. If you put it down next to another person, I know that it is a very bad idea. I fired some, a few times, well a lot of times I can say. This year I fired some during our supporters Pilgrimage to Częstochowa.

James: When does that happen?

Paweł: The supporter’s pilgrimage is on the first Saturday of January. For me it’s a safe thing [pyro]. It’s like you light it [a flare] it goes for one minute and that’s all. I heard that sometimes it might cause some injuries, but it’s even less than 1%. So for me it’s very safe and it looks quite fine.

James: Ok here’s a political question. What do you think about Donald Tusk being the president of the European Council?

Paweł: In my opinion Tusk sold Poland to reach this place. We've got no factories, we've got no ship-builders, and we've got no North Stream pipeline. Donald Tusk was on his knees to Angela [Merkel], on his knees to Putin, and for everybody else, and that’s why he achieved this place.

James: So you don’t think that he will support Polish interests?

Paweł: It depends on what Angela will say.

James: So Angela is pulling the strings.

Paweł: I’m afraid that’s true. But we will see. He’s got two and a half years at this positions, so we will see. I’ll tell you straight. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid I’m not.

James: It’s a widespread fear with politics, because you never really know what you’re getting.

Paweł: I know what I will get when I buy some bombs. Then I will finally reach my target.

James: What will you do?

Paweł: I will organize a meeting with all politicians from left to right. I will close the door, and then bang. In my opinion, of course I’m right-winged, I’m supporting Kaczyński, but in my opinion I don’t think there is any politician that deserves to win. I think that all hands are dirty. 

James: Where do you work?

Paweł: I work as a subway technician; I maintain remote-control of everything, like all the lights and so forth, in the metro.

James: How long have you been doing that job?

Paweł: For more than seven years.

James: And do your coworkers believe the same things that you do?

Paweł: Hahaha, no, no, no. When we are talking about politicians or something like that, we sometimes have very big arguments. But you know, good arguing is not bad. We can somehow clear the atmosphere.

James: Well thank you very much for your perspective. It’s really nice to be able to hear a different point of view. I’ll ask one more question. Are you planning to go next year on the 11^th?

Paweł: Yes, of course. If it will not be banned. Every year we have some fights, and big minds say that it should be banned, it shouldn't be allowed, no more Independence Day March. Three years ago they said these things, two years ago, one year ago, this year, next year, another year. But still I’m going to be there.

Dedicated to Liao Yiwu for the inspiration to talk no matter what the differences are.