WARSAW: the last days Part I
Definitely this last chronological section will be finished before progress slows down to a halt. The appendices I’ll have to add on later. Thus, is the nature of appendices. In a few weeks I’ll have more time, but for now the slowdown is accelerating. I believe the slowdown already began someplace in Warsaw when things started to get comfortable. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though. So without further adew, here is the last bit chronologically.
Warsaw - Bright Lights, Fast Cars, Poverty, History
Like one would in any sprawling modern city, we hit the city of Warsaw long before we hit the urban zone. It started out innocently as a run down factory here and there with industry-laden homes dotting the scenery. The rolling plains (after which the Poles are named), turned a little grayer and uglified overall. Visually, it was all fairly reminiscent of many industrialized Chinese cities. Its emerging personality as a modern city compared to other cities like Krakow stays in character with its historical persona for it prominence comes into play late in the history of the Polish people.
While Krakow had already enjoyed centuries of burgeoning Polish cultural life, Warsaw was still a small settlement in the forest on the River Wisla. In the 15th century, one of the dukes of Mazovia by name of Janusz the First set up his palace in the hamlet. After a hundred years or so, no heirs remained in the dynasty and it soon fell under the direct rule of the king of Poland. It’s location became strategic when Lithuania and Poland joined forces under the shadow of one crown. King Zygmunt I picked up and moved the Polish parliament there in 1569 after further convincing by a little fire in the capital at Krakow.
Warsaw by the end of the First World War reached a population of almost one million people. By the post-war era, however, due to many reasons like it’s unfortunate location as the sandwich meat between the two heavy pieces of militaristic bread called Germany and the Soviet Union. Also, Poland had been a relative safe haven for Jews in the ever-anti-Semitic Europe much like for the Semitic peoples in France today. By the end of the Second World War, cultural and intellectual life was almost extinct in Warsaw. A majority of the buildings were destroyed by the war machines of the East and West and subsequently its cultural vibrance was also nearly extinguished. Almost one million of Warsaw’s inhabitants had dwindled down to a fraction of the population.
Like most countries of Europe whose economic engines were stripped bare in the name of Communism and centralized planning, Poland and its capital were stagnant for the decades following the World Wars. The world sped up after Poland opened up. Reforms and the opening up of the Polish market to the West zoomed and morphed Warsaw into the economic powerhouse of the country.
It was a matter of a dozen minutes or two before we screeched into Warszawa Centralna, which means Warsaw’s Central Train Station for those of you who haven’t figured that out. Up until this point in time, I tried not to think of the fact that my bed for the evening was not quite secured yet. Of course, there are people who wouldn’t flinch at the thought of sleeping on a park bench but they are better people than me.
I said my goodbyes to the priest that I had chatted up – or more accurately, had chatted me up probably to improve his English, we exchanged emails which would probably never be used, he politely refused my offer to help him with his copious amounts of luggage and we then wished each other well and went on our separate ways. Then, as I climbed up to a level of the train station still underground, I was suddenly surrounded by stretched clusters of shops and internet cafes. This was perfectly fine with me since I still had to check about emails from Inga and my potential rides back into Schengen territory anyway. After some confusion with an internet café owner about only wanting to be online for five minutes, I soon found there was as yet no reply from Inga who herself was probably just arriving into Warsaw.
I don’t believe I’ve introduced you to Inga yet. During my time as a student of European Studies in Leuven, I’ve come across people from all over EU and non-EU Europe who were interested in the workings of the EU. In my program, Poland (or at least the female half) was well represented. Their country at the time of the program stood at the verge of accession into the Union. By the time of my arrival, the referendum had been passed by a resounding “TAK!” Inga was one of that delegation of Polish girls who among other things had worked with me on a certain English-language publication called The Voice. She, like me, was now escaping Schengen after using up the time she was allowed to stay in the territory as a non-EU citizen.
Again I was lugging my huge bag over my shoulder (though it was now much lighter), somewhat lost and wanting to know where I would be resting my head that night. Under the Warszawa Centralna and the surrounding area was a maze of shops and cafes that was very heavily patrolled by armed and bulletproof vested police. I never found out if they were there regularly or there was some new threat. However, I did notice that the vagrants and roving gangs of youths that regularly wandered around the train station area stayed out of the underground mall. The police occasionally leaked onto the overground and directed homeless residents resting on the front steps of skyscrapers to less dignified locales.
About two hours into the hustle of Warsaw, I crossed a few roads with cars driving dangerous speeds and ducked into a few underground crossings (which were also filled with shops) and into a quieter area in search of a payphone. Payphones were in short supply inside and around the train station. Mobile phones were not. There was one payphone near the main hall of the station but that was being monopolized by a group of aggressive looking young men. Finally, I was able to reach Inga who had arrived into town only earlier that day and my bed for the night was secured. I sunk into the depths of James Joyce until she came.
After 20 plus hours of riding in a bus from Brussels, Inga felt in no state to drive. Her father came to the station to take me back to their house on the outskirts of Warsaw. After leaving the train station area, I discovered the Inga’s father, along with most Warsavites, drove like maniacs. Maniacs that can drive very well that is. Lets just say that people were driving at very high speeds on roads that could barely fit the cars.
The three of us zoomed into a long driveway leading to a complex of houses in the Tchorzewska estate. Of course, there were other houses and commercial buildings nearby but inside and outside, it was the most luxurious thing that I had seen for quite some time without having to pay for the tour. Awaiting me and me alone since the others had already eaten was a sumptuous feast of Polish treats. There were also the translated and non-translated (via Inga) claims of the things I was sampling being “typically Polish”. The names remained in my mind for about ten minutes but I’ll give you a brief description. There was a cold salad, kielbasa – a Polish sausage, and a soup that was similar to bigos – don’t ask me what that is. That’s about as much as I can tell you. I hungrily ate. They watched and eagerly waited for my reaction – the reaction was essentially to eat more. They approved.
The after dinner sweets were also copious. Luckily there were watermelons as well, which they couldn’t get away with calling “typically Polish”. There was also the “typically Polish” habit of drinking tea with rum. I was willing to try and I don’t hesitate to say that it was pretty grody. The rum weighed heavily on my eyelids and I was soon led up to my lodging space. The newly renovated upper level of the house gleamed with polish (meaning shine, not from Poland – although it was in Poland… never mind) and from my bed I could have seen the stars through the skylight if they hadn’t been covered by clouds. After a refreshing shower, I soon collapsed into deep, dreamless sleep.
