Decency and politics

I am in a particularly pensive mood today and I should perhaps refrain from writing but I made a promise to myself to write once a week. If I do not write today, I am not likely to write for another week. My dear friends are coming for a visit. So, I will give it a go risking that I may start difficult subjects without having my thought organised.

I just listened to a discussion on the subject of decency. The talk was not only about political decency but decency in general. The people who were discussing were themselves, in my opinion, really decent people in the old fashion understanding of the word. This is so sad to think that decency may already be an old fashion way of leading one’s life. I do not want it to be so. At the same time I am exposed to the Polish media when the political games are so crude with oozing falseness that this is embarrassing and painful to watch. And not decent at all. I may in self-defense stop switching my TV to political programs.

Many years ago one of the leading politicians of the Law and Justice party said – we can say anything we want, silly masses will buy it. Most of the moves and declaration of this party are now, before the parliamentary election, directed to silly masses. This time the merchandise is wrapped up nicely. What we see is the new, young  president with his attractive family, smiling when appropriate and raising voice in disapproval on other occasion. Overall good theatrical performance but decency is not meant to be a characteristic of it. Or truthfulness. And the silly masses are buying. I find it disrespectful towards those called ‘silly masses’

Things will happen as they will, I will let go for a while hoping for the best possible future for this country that I started to feel is mine again. Hope I will be able to retain the feeling.

Jews in Poland

I love the new Poland, but I do not like all that I observe. Some things are painful for me to see and difficult to comprehend. Being here and being me, I watch news. It is difficult to escape reallisation that a part of the Polish population, a big part unfortunately, is anti-Semitic. There is history to that and one may find some justification to excuse some anti-Semitic convictions, but I must say that any possible justification is weak. Polish tradition of being a Christian country is very old. Baptism of Poland happened through personal baptism of the first Polish ruler Mieszko the First. It was the year 966 and since then Poland is considered to be a Christian country. 

Jews were considered to be murderers of Christ and as such the major enemies of the Christian religions. That Jesus himself was a Jew somehow has lesser importance in Polish prejudices. It may be my ignorance talking here and if anyone could set me straight I will be obliged. Anyhow long standing Christianity of Poland is an excuse to treat Jews as “they” and justify unfriendly actions and more.

When I meet people of Jewish origin in Australia, I feel uncomfortable about my Polish background. Actually, I even feel ashamed. I sometimes try to say sorry; it was horrible how Poles behaved towards Jews at times. Not like Nazis, of course, and there were none Polish concentration camps as it sometimes is wrongly stated, but there were dark pages in Polish history. In fact this has not changed much. Sure, we behave now with more restrain but I hear very ugly words sometimes. There are even anti Semitic pamphlets available in some churches.  

So what is it about Jews that disturbs Poles? The views are – they are different, they are not US. They are not Polish. This in minds of some people is bad and Jews need to be excluded and can be offended. Not very Christian attitude to me.

My father is a good example of how deeply anti-Semitism is ingrained in Polish psyche. I remember the times when even he expressed anti-Semitic views. He did not stop to think what was wrong about Jews, but he really did not want me to get romantically involved with one. When I introduced my Swedish boyfriend to my parents, my father expressed a relief that at least this one is not likely to be Jewish. This was dictated by his doubts about my previous boyfriend, was he Jewish or one of us? But my father worried in silence and I was not forbidden to continue the relationship. My best girlfriend at school was Jewish. We sat at the same bench through grammar and high school. We went, together with our parents for holidays to the seashore. I am so glad to realize that my father’s prejudices did not translate to personal dislikes of human beings. Remembering his silly comments is not the best memory I have of my father. Thanks God there are so many other memories I cherish.

Then, I studied mathematics and math was a very Jewish faculty. Majority of my fellow students were Jewish. I did not think about who my colleagues were until such time when they started to disappear. The faculty shrunk and Polish mathematics suffered tremendous loss. Israel gained.  Many families left because they did not feel welcome at that time in Poland. I think that the situation is still difficult especially for people who contributed to Polish science and culture and now have to put up with anti-Semitic remarks expressed in private and publicly in media.

On Spirituality and Polish Catholicism

Spirituality has been always important to me. Since I was a little girl churches had a special appeal to me. They still do, even if the reasons are perhaps different now.

It was only natural that being born in Poland, the country that has always been a catholic country, I equated spirituality with being religious in the catholic sense. The liturgy has been so mysterious and beautiful. I loved the way the clergy was dressed and I absolutely loved the aroma of burning incense.  I wonder if the incense is still being burnt during masses. My parents would not take me to church very often, I suspect they were not all that religious. However, while visiting my grand parents in their village, every Sunday my grandmother dressed me in my best dress and I was ceremoniously taken to the church. My grandmother, holding my hand, walked proudly through the main street nodding her hello to the met villagers. She was showing her granddaughter off. Being a dressed up doll was definitely not the part I liked to play. In addition the church in the village was not what I considered a proper church. It did not have stained glass windows and it was too light and sunny. No real atmosphere. But the worse thing was that the Sunday mass with my grandmother was a social exercise rather than a spiritual event.

Later on, when I was a bit older and could decide if and when to go to the church, I rarely selected Sunday mass for a church visit. More often it was a lonely visit to an empty church of my liking. I lived in a rather small town and the choice of churches was not that spectacular, but the main town church fully met all my expectations. It was big, dark, had beautiful stained glass windows, dark frescos through the whole church and many old paintings and sculptures in the aisles. The nave was also very special. The vaulting was painted in navy blue and covered by golden stars. It was like a starry night sky. Two thirds of the way from the main entrance a big cross divided the nave. Behind the cross was another altar, sculpted in silver metal. Knowing the excesses of wealth of the Catholic Church the altar must have been at least silver plated if not solid silver. It was enchanting to me. In those times churches were never locked up. Now they are most of the time.

As a teenager, I visited the church when I had some problems. It may have been problems with a teacher, a friend, or the parents or a boyfriend.  Whatever my problems may have been, I thought of them as serious at the time. Serious enough to walk quite a distance, to sit down in my favourite pew and pray. My payers were really meditations, only I did not know the concept of meditation then. I was sitting in the cool, dark church for a while, looking up at the paintings of  saints, asking for a solution. I always left uplifted having some plans how to resolve my dilemma. At that time I felt a catholic. In fact I was quite a religious girl, observing some religious practices. I needed to feel that it was a power above me. A loving force.

Then, some observations came and brought confusion to the young mind and made me think critically about clergy. The first disappointing surprise came during a sermon on virtue of self-denial and beauty of living in poverty. I knew the preecher and was very surprised that he was saying things that were so different from the way he led his life. Outside the church, he wore elegant suits, drove an exclusive car and liked good food and good wine. I could often see him promenading in his civil cloth waving his beautiful walking stick with a silver handle.  He did not need any help of a cane unless to create this debonair image. He definitely did not practiced what he preached. I could not understand the discrepancies, I but stopped listening to sermons at those rare occasions when I attended a mass. I declared them as false.

Another surprise was to discover that celibacy is too difficult to live by many priests. I saw priests at social occasions in the company of their housekeepers. They looked and behave the same as married couples. I thought it was strange and my mother giggled when I expressed surprise.

When I recall the stories, I am amazed by my naivety and innocence. 

This was going to be a short introduction to write about Catholicism in Poland, but it turned out to be self-indulging reminiscence of my start to spiritual transformation. I will come back to the subject in one of my next posts. Being in Poland one can not stop observing and evaluating church issues. Too much of that shows in news and is present in politics. And this is not pretty.

New Warsaw

My previous post was quite nostalgic, I am told. How else could it be when I was writing about meeting my old friends, talking with them about old times and visiting old places in Warsaw? It had to be nostalgic, but now, I think it is time for balancing the old with a new.

Warsaw has changed dramatically in the recent years. Luis Vuitton, Boss, Armani and other exclusive shops display their goods behind beautifully washed, gleaming, huge windows. This is a new side of Warsaw. One can see many very well designed, spectacular buildings that compete for attention to its height with the old Palace of Culture and Science still defending its Warsaw record of 231 meters. The building is not loved by all as this is a very ostentatious example of Stalinist architecture and the times Poles want to forget. Still after 60 years it became an integral part of the town. I would be sorry to see it disappear.

The Libeskind Sail is to the left of the Palace of Culture and Science

My favourite new building in Warsaw is The Sail of Daniel Libeskind. I did not know the name of the designer before I saw the building and noted its elegant beauty. My first impression was that it is an image of a surfboard. It must have been my Australian association. Quite accurate, I think, even if the designer perhaps did not have surfing in mind. At least not likely.  As I later found out Mr. Libeskind is of Polish Jewish descent and designed many famous and beautiful buildings in the world. I must say that I agree with some of his critics that all his buildings have strong similarities of sharp edges but I am still very pleased that one of his famous buildings is now the Warsaw landmark. The town has now many well and interestingly designed buildings. I am sorry to say that Sydney except for its spectacular Opera House does not have many buildings of architectural significance. To me all recent Sydney buildings are just high, but do not distinguish themselves by interesting designs. Maybe this is a sign of good economical judgment that I generally admire. Beautiful buildings are expensive. But wouldn't we all be sorry if Cathedral of Notre Dame or St. Paul’s were not built because it did not make economical sense? However, I am not in favour of following the equation of The Sale. Construction cost - PLN 700 million and selling price - PLN 215 million. Not a good business.

I could not find a picture showing The Sail from the angle from which it looks like a surfing board.

There are also political changes in Poland that may significantly influence the future of the country. The last week a new president was sworn in and in October the next Polish parliamentary election will take place. It looks that the current opposition will take a power over Poland. I am not qualified to make political predictions but from my perspective a difficult times are looming. I hope my fears are not going to become reality and that positive changes will continue and that I will be looking forward to my holidays in Poland for some years to come.

Celebrating with friends

When I visit Poland these days, Gdansk is my town, but I was a Warsaw girl before I left the country many years ago. I studied in Warsaw, I got my first job there and I worked there and I loved there. Warsaw was my home town for some good and eventful years. Then the time came for the western chapters of my life and I stopped being a Warsaw girl. Sydney and busy work life took over and I became an Aussie for many years. Now I stopped identifying with any particular town and I am at times confused not feeling a true Pole or a true Aussie. For a true Aussie, I always had a funny accent but I felt a Sydney-sider 100% for many years.

Last week I went to Warsaw to visit my family and friends. The friends, I stayed with, live in a suburb good few kilometers from Warsaw, sort of the Parramatta-Sydney distance. I spent most of my time with them and went to Warsaw only a couple of times. 

In Poland one celebrates name-days rather than birthdays and mine is the 26^th of July. Last few years I celebrated the day in Warsaw. One point of the celebration is a lunch with my two student friends. I hope it will become our tradition and continue for many years.

Warsaw has changed so much that this is not my Warsaw any more. The changes are for the better, but naturally and fortunately the town moved on with times but my memories stand still. Thanks God that my favourite historic street Nowy Swiat (New World) has only improved their restaurants and shops but the character of the street is still the same.

We started with coffee and cakes at the A.Blikle cafe which originated in 1869. The name of the place and the décor of dark hardwood and mirrored walls are the same as they were in the old times even if the place has been beautifully rejuvenated since my old Warsaw days.

There is one sad change in the atmosphere of the place since the last year. Tadeusz Konwicki and his friends do not show up at 11:00 for coffee, as it was their custom. This literary, artistic small circle of famous people will not meet any more and one of the Nowy Swiat tradition became a memory. There will be no need anymore to break non smoking rules for anyone at Blikle's.  I think that the next year we will move to the neighbouring patisserie also run by the Blikle family.                       

Tadeusz Konwicki, in the past integral part of Nowy Świat 

After coffee and fantastic cakes, the best cakes in the world (at least for me), we went for a stroll down Nowy Swiat looking for a suitable restaurant and to have a look at the gates of University of Warsaw, our old university.

I went for a few moments of meditation to the Holly Cross Church opposite the university. Chopin’s heart is buried there. Instead of becoming peaceful I became annoyed. Polish Catholic Church has a lot of money and plenty of claims for more. Some of the money was turned into gilding the church interior. To me, the church lost its spiritual atmosphere and became ostentatious. This is bad taste and bad judgment.   

It was time for my name-day lunch so I quickly moved into a festive frame of mind. We went to The Culinary Traditions of Poland (Dawne Smaki). Part of the restaurant is situated in the old garden behind buildings of Nowy Swiat. We decided to take a table there. This was a new, rather decadent Warsaw but I could take the change with ease this time. Since the place reminded me of Italian restaurants I saw on films about the high society, we ordered prosecco. Maybe not the most elegant of bubblies but in sympathy with my Italian associations.  

Entrance to the garden part of the restaurant

It was a great name-day lunch, a lunch to remember.

Feministic Observations

There are a couple of reasons why I intend to write about feminism and explore my own feelings and thoughts about the subject.

For some reasons, not that clear to me any more I read many books about Bloomsbury group and books created by its representatives. Virginia Woolf is my main object of attention. I say that the reason of my interest is not even clear to me. It has lost allure in my eyes some time ago but I still read Virginia Woolf’s letters, stories, novels and diaries. There was a time and this was some years ago when I was fascinated by the people belonging to Bloomsbury literary circle. It all stared with the film about Dora Carrington and her love for Lytton Strachey.  It was 1995. I still think that the film was very good and Jonathan Pryce who played Lytton Strachey even got a British Best Actor Award for the role. Then I read a book about Carrington and Virginia Woolf’s name came to my attention. I recalled reading To the Light House in my early Polish times and after seeing the film I decided to read more. At that time I was not particularly interested in her feministic bias. I was too busy working away in the men’s world with no thought that I may have been professionally different to my male colleagues or disadvantaged by being a woman.

Lytton Strachey and Virginia Woolf. Maybe this was the time when they were engaged, as surprisingly they were for a while.

                                                             

I was brought up in communist Poland and one positive aspect of the political system was that it considered everybody equal. Women were riding tractors, worked as bricklayers and moved up in business hierarchies with the same speed as men did. When I moved into the Western world, I was married to a Swedish person and this nationality also considered women equal to men. I did not have any idea that I may be disadvantaged being a woman or considered being a lesser person. Some sexist comments, I heard in my corporate environment, I considered to be jokes in bad taste and did not get disturbed by them. I was a bit surprised when joining a golf club I was called an associate and my husband was called a member of the club. Somebody said, this is just a tradition, so I let it go without feeling put down. On reflection, this naïve approach of mine might have helped me in my career. I felt more confident than I would have if a thought of not being equal came to my mind.

                                                            

                                         

Then in my corporate world, quotas became a subject of discussions. I felt offended by the idea. I wanted to be assessed on merit, not be patronized by being considered somebody who needs help. You need to help weaker, disadvantaged people and I did not consider women in general as such. Now, I look at it a bit differently. I think quotas are a good idea until such a time when the mindset of societies at large           changes. Women need to catch up at least in some countries and they do need help of quotas.

When, after some years I came back to Poland I realized that women stopped to be equal. They are patronized and considered a second class citizens particularly by the church. Of course, they have their role to play, but it does not involve contribution in the business world. In spite of that there are many successful women in Poland, I am pleased to notice.

With my history and experience, I do not have any doubts that we are all equal even if we have our stronger and weaker points. This however is not related to a gender. There are clever and silly men, there are women geniuses and very silly ones as well.

Reading newly bought Virginia Woolf’s short stories it came to be how recent it was when women were subjected to will of their parents who had “their best interest at heart” when they pushed them out of their homes sending them to a home of a stranger. I know that in some cultures many marriages are still arranged and I even know some very happy ones. But if I could not decide about my life, I would see it as a tragic situation.

                                              

Few days ago, I read a post of Personal Reflections about the Australian Archibald competition winner. An interesting painting even if a bit morbid. The mother of Charles Milsom, the awarded painter, made a remark that it reminds her of Halloween. It was my first impression as well, but the painting is good, especially the straight lines of the face are striking as is the sitter, famous  Sydney barrister Charles Waterstreet. 

All three of them

The post has a link to video with montage of all winners of the Archibald competition.  I watched the video with full attention as the changes of paintings are very fast, maybe even too fast. After a while I started to feel surprise followed by irritation. Majority of the winners depicted men. I mean a serious majority. I asked myself why? Wrote my comment and that triggered off an interesting discussion in which I played a role of a feminist. I never considered myself as such, but I better start thinking of myself as one.  It might explain this rather long post on the subject of equality.