Poland

I am writing from a lovely loft room in Villeneuve-Loubet (France), home to my friends Errol and Sue. Many years ago when I was a student at the Conservatoire in Nice, Errol and Sue were my refuge. I was always able to escape the boredom of public holidays by popping in to see them. But this blog is about Poland, not France, so I will speak about the loft room and this trip in another blog.

Last weekend I flew to Katowice in Poland to stay with Bart (one of my wonderful couchsurfers) and his family. Until I met Bart, for me, Poland was “that place” where Auschwitz was situated and whence came all our plumbers in London. The few Polish people I had met in London hadn’t seemed particularly friendly and I must admit that I hadn’t formed a positive opinion about Polish people based on my limited experience. However, in retrospect, this opinion was not justified as I recall having spontaneous drinks with a group of Poles who were renting rooms in the same house as my German friend Patrik in Brighton and they were extremely friendly. To be honest, I think that I allowed one or two minor encounters cloud my opinion, something we tend to do too often in life: judge an entire race by one or two negative representatives.

Before leaving for Poland, I asked Bart to inform his mother that I was not a big eater. I did this because during a visit to Prague with Vojtech, I was faced with table after table of wonderful but enormous servings of food. Since stopping the steroids, my appetite has not been huge and I was worried about causing offense. Well, Bart’s wonderful mother was not to be deterred. She produced amazing food and wanted to feed me from the moment I arrived. What a lovely family: the expression “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” is so true. In London, Bart has been very caring and generous and has also shared his excellent sense of humour with us all. His family, from parents, sister, grandmother to aunt and uncle, showed the same high level of generosity, friendship, warmth and humour. Despite the language barrier (my “Polish in 60 minutes” didn’t work but only because I was too lazy and did 10 of the 60 minutes), we had many a laugh around the table. Bart was a great interpreter but was reluctant to interpret some of my comments about him to his family. I would have loved to have been able to recount anecdotes about Bart’s life in London, spin a yarn or two about him, and embarrass him a little, but alas, 10 minutes of “Polish in 60 minutes” only allowed me to greet and to say thank you! Bart’s grandmother was very much like my mom’s mother. I have been so lucky having known three awesome grandparents. I am always taken aback by people who have not had good experiences with their grandparents as they could and should play such a vital role in a child’s life. I tried to persuade Bart’s gran to come back to London with us and she jokingly agreed as long as we bought her a ticket. The whole weekend, I was spoiled rotten by Bart and his family and must say that the level of hospitality and friendliness was simply wonderful.

In terms of visiting Poland, one of my main interests lay in the second World War and the “final solution” regarding the Jews. On Saturday, Bart, his sister and I visited Krakow. After wondering around the town square by foot and visiting the market, we took one of the electric city tour cars. Both Bart and I got a little bored about the number of Churches and their history (Poland was a very religious country). From my point of view, it wasn’t that I was against all the Churches, it was just that there were so many and I was impatient to get to the Jewish quarter and to also see the remains of the ghetto that was erected to contain the Jewish people. All in all, the tour was very interesting and the story about the dragon (not to mention the statue of the dragon spitting fire), was endearing. After a late lunch we went to visit a salt mine. I recall threatening my students with banishment to the salt mines of Siberia but I had never visited a salt mine before. When we descended the 800+ stairs to the bottom of the mine, our guide was brilliant despite the rude tourists who spoke over his voice. One particularly funny comment he made was: “At this salt mine you can lick anything...EXCEPT the guide!” It was, once again, an interesting visit.

We arrived back at Bart’s home to find a barbecue in process and some of his relatives visiting. They were keen to know more about me and through Bart’s skilled intrepreting, we had a great evening of chatting, laughing and eating. We were viciously attacked by mosquitoes before moving indoors and I had a funny lump on my head where one mosquito had a go (my hair is extremely short as Adam, my barber, was not concentrating...he had also created two interesting – but very different - hair sculptures above each of Bart’s ears).

On Sunday, Bart and I woke up early for our visit to Auschwitz. The visit lasted approximately 3 hours and was everything I expected it to be. While waiting for the visit to start, I asked myself why I was there...I was thinking in terms of how people “rubber neck” when driving past a gruesome car accident on the highway. Why do we want to see the misfortunes of other people? Are we all inherent voyeurs, and was I in Auschwitz as a voyeur, someone who wanted to look in from the outside and in some way, both bask and squirm in the misfortune of millions of Jews? The guide’s opening remark put my visit into perspective. He said: “Auschwitz is NOT a tourist attraction; it is a reminder of what can and did happen. It was about one simple objective: the extermination of the Jewish race.” The guide reminded us, throughout the visit, about how cold-blooded and simplistic this objective remained. I kept my emotions in check despite the obvious evidence of the suffering and humiliation that the prisoners, both Jewish and non-Jewish, suffered. I thought about current attitudes towards the Roma, in England and elsewhere in Europe, about how we regard them with suspicion, and how the Germans extinguished so many of them based on the exact same suspicions and disdain we sometimes show for their race. It made me reflect on how dangerous racial prejudice can be in the hands of someone with power (and I am not speaking about colour, but about race and ethnicity). In fact, any prejudice for that matter. I used to tell potential couchsurfers (and in fact my students) that they had to leave all their prejudices outside the door to my house or classroom, that tolerance was my core value, and seeing the results of incomprehensibly destructive prejudice was a stark reminder to myself of the need to guard against the ever-present temptation to show prejudice, no matter how mild. We ended our tour with a visit to Birkinau, and to be honest, the open space, the barbed wire fencing and the wooden sheds which housed the prisoners, had more of an impact on me than Auschwitz in terms of being able to picture the level of degradation the Jews and other “unwanted” races had to endure. Seeing the offloading ramp/area where people were divided into groups, and seeing the communal toilets and the incinerators which had been destroyed by the Germans when they realised their time was up, brought it all home more realistically.
We returned to Bart’s home in time for a lovely lunch and sad drive to the airport to say goodbye and to fly back to London. All in all, an excellent trip, my first to Poland, and a truly great experience.

Health-wise, it has been a bit of a struggle of late. Coughing has been debilitating and back pain has been, at times, excruciating. It is all on the left hand side of my body. I saw my GP who has prescribed a stronger painkiller but we really need to get to the cause of the pain...scans a couple of months ago showed my spine and liver etc clear of cancer but I think that further investigation is needed as there has to be a reason for such pain to be present. As always, I am well looked after by friends and family, and my couchsurfers (read ‘wonderful friends’) are as attentive as ever. Good news is that I have a date for surgery on my vocal cords: Friday 23rd July. I have a pre-hospital assessment on the 14th. I cannot wait to see if the op is successful as I am desperate to get my some or all of my voice back. It has been approximately 10 weeks now that I haven’t been able to speak properly and it is tiring, frustrating and getting in the way of my desire to coach as much as possible.

Some days I feel strong and believe I can last “forever”, and others, particularly when I am writhing in agony because painkillers haven’t kicked in yet, I wish it were all over sooner rather than later. I still have plans to travel more and have no intention of leaving this earth until I have had a good trip to Zimbabwe and South Africa, as well as NYC and other places. Right now, I can look forward to a relaxing week in the South of France, being spoiled by Sue and Errol.

Whatever it is that you are doing, do it with love, passion and enjoyment, or don’t do it! As a coach, I know that even if you think you hate your job or your life, upon closer inspection, you will find that you only hate certain aspects of your job or life and those aspects can be changed or improved. Often, it is a matter of changing your perception and attitude before further positive change can take place and you can start loving what you do. It is not where you do something that matters, it is what you do and how you do it that matters. So fill your lives with love, passion and laughter and if you don’t know how to do it, find someone to teach you how. I recently said goodbye to Remi, a 21yr old French couchsurfer whose level of self-confidence and enthusiasm for life was a huge lesson to me. I learned to stop moaning about unimportant things, or at the very least, to look at them differently. Remi broke every rule within my “book of rules” yet I learned so much from him, not all good - in which case I was able to become the teacher - and the main thing I learned, was to seize the moment, to open up my mind and to live. In his last days in London, Remi told me: “I will not say no to anything that my friends or people suggest to me in London”. Alarm bells rang in my head and I tried to lecture him on the inherent dangers...blah blah blah...Well, of course he ignored my lecutring, but he also left London safe and sound, having had the most amazing experiences, all of which he recounted to me, often between midnight and 4 in the morning, and I listened without prejudice, just neutral interest and a certain amount of envy. All the worrying about his safety and possible disastrous outcomes was unnecessary.

So, once again, I encourage us all to live life with passion and enjoyment...we don’t know, each and every one of us (not only those of us who have been given a time-limit), when we will “pop our clogs” so why waste time being miserable?

Until the next time

Much love from

Megga-goose