Finding a Place in Poland

You may all be aware that, as far as American slang is concerned, I have long found my place here, in that I rented an apartment within weeks of setting foot in this city – in that case, a place refers to somewhere to live.

You might say: “Come back to my place to watch the game” or “Do you have any beer at your place?”.

Seems I just can’t stop being a teacher, can I?

The place referred to in the title deals with something much deeper than the fundamental human need for shelter. What I’m talking about is another basic human need: identifying with one’s environment. 

A long time ago, when my first grandson was barely out of diapers, he recognized the road to my house, even after having been away for a few months. Not biased at all (haha!), I gloated over his demonstrated intellectual capability.

That incident speaks to the heart of today’s topic.

As a toddler, this child of not yet three years showed signs of animation when we turned into my neighborhood, babbled upon turning onto the street my house was on and, even before turning into the driveway, indicated that he knew exactly which house was mine.

Was he precocious? Maybe, but that’s hardly the point.

What matters is that he consciously expressed what all of us do on a subconscious level: he identified his known environment, step by step. We all do that, whether we’re aware of it or not. These mostly unconscious processes give our lives a sense of safety, structure and stability.  

How, then, must a traveller feel; someone whose environment constantly or frequently changes?

One might think that, for me, living in Szczecin would not be a great adjustment because I grew up in an assortment of European cities, with Berlin having been my longest sojourn.

In fact, I often think of Szczecin as Berlin-lite; not quite the size or pace but certainly with a history to rival Germany’s capital city!

So, in a sense, for me, living here is resuming the familiar. However, there have been many cities and a couple of different countries between my defining years (adolescence/young adulthood) and now.

And, while I never could quite meld with American culture or mores – I always felt like an outsider in spite of friends’ efforts at including me, I did identify with the Chinese culture, even for all of the paradoxes it presented.

This topic came to light, actually crystallized after an hours-long conversation with Gary, my bestest travelling buddy in China, during which he averred he planned on retiring in a few years and I should quit breaking bones so that we may gallivant around together.

As he cannot leave China without abandoning his filial responsibilities, that would imply my moving back to China; a feat that is becoming increasingly difficult for all of the current political fracas, to say nothing of my advancement in years: the Chinese are less inclined to welcome foreigners after they reach a certain age.

A prospective return to China is really what brought this train of thought into the station.

Between my leaving that country and relocating here, there was an 18-month stay in the states that did little to repeal what I had gotten used to in China. While stateside, navigating live-in relationships and grieving for the life I had built for myself in Wuhan took all that I had. 

Now that I am on my own again – and thanks to Gary’s promise of succor in my sunset years, it is time to reflect on what’s missing in Poland that was so abundant in Wuhan.

For one, visible air. At times, especially in the summer, one could actually see dirt and pollutive particles suspended in the air in Wuhan. What made it worse is that nearly every bit of greenery was covered in dust, dirt, soot or... who knows what!

By contrast, here, there are blue skies and lush avenues of green and trees line every road. Each major boulevard is dotted with roundabouts, landscaped for maximum aesthetic effect.

Planting gardens

While the Chinese are prone to planting a vegetable garden in any untended piece of land – once, most notably, in a highway median; the people of Szczecin and surrounding areas maintain garden plots outside of city limits, in sanctioned gardening zones.

While on a long bus ride to a satellite community, I had occasion to observe such a grouping of mini-farms, replete with tiny dwellings meant for a weekend stay. Such installations are not unusual to me; people in Berlin also followed this practice.    

I think the Chinese would have a field day with all of the open spaces and greenery here!

Massive crowds

One could hardly compare China’s megalopoli with any city in Poland; population-wise they are not even on the same scale.

To give you an idea: Warsaw is Poland’s most populated city, housing over 1.7 million people as of their last census.

By contrast, Wuhan is home to more than 10.6 million people, and it’s not even the most populous city in China. Shanghai, the country’s most populous city, boasts 23 million inhabitants, making Wuhan look downright provincial!

Another factor that impacts the crowding issue is the Chinese propensity for large groups going places together and their culture’s lack of regard for personal space, which might make those crowds seem denser than they are.

Here,  it appears that three people could make up a crowd; even upon school dismissals I’ve seldom seen large gatherings.

One instance of note was a rally for inclusion, held just a few weeks ago in a public square. If you watch the video, you’ll notice that it was, by some standards, dismally attended. For Szczecin, that was a wild horde of people!

Going along with the crowding issue which some might consider rude are a host of seemingly ill-mannered behaviors the Chinese routinely practice that, here, would be considered absolutely uncivilized!

Other differences:

·         There are no double-decker buses here but there are accordion buses, as in the bigger Chinese cities

◦  In that same vein, there are no underground trains here; however, there are trams

·         Regardless of bus or tram, they are never as crowded as those trundling around Chinese cities!

·         Respectful drivers! Nobody here jockeys for position and I’ve yet to see a traffic jam or hear a horn, angrily pounded.

·         Food stalls here consist of some sort of bread offering, paninis or krokies of the deep-fried varieties; in China you would find mainly noodles – besides eclectic street food offerings

·         As a rule, no dancing in the street by anyone, let alone old ladies!

·         No unregulated produce stands; here all of the farmer’s markets are in designated spaces

·         As opposed to China’s banks and post offices (and everything else) that open seven days a week, here, even the shops remain closed on Sundays!

·         Here, I am about the same size and skin tone as everyone else; there, I stuck out like a sore thumb!

On reflection, maybe Szczecin could be thought of a film negative of China: most everything is inverse.

So, are there any similarities? Of course!      

I’ve already told you about the sparseness of kitchenware I discovered here... although, admittedly, there is more to be had here than in China.  

While visiting Manhattan (stay tuned for that story!), along the pedestrian skyway, vendors hawked their wares: knitted booties or other hand-made items; some of their stock seems to have come from their attic – pitiful, discarded relics such as plastic wallets and rusty scissors.

While there, for the first time, I was accosted by a beggar. A single beggar, I might add, as opposed to the cloud of mendicants that always seemed to converge on any foreigner, everywhere I’d been in China.

And, oddly enough...

Here, I find the same brands of fast food as in China: KFC, McDonalds’ and Pizza Hut; even the occasional Burger King! 

Yesterday, walking around Poland’s version of Metro, that store in China that was my go-to outlet for all things western that I craved.

Would a few fast food outlets, a Metro card and a good friend to travel with be enough to entice me to live in China again, if such a possibility even exists?

I am not sure. I believe I would resent reduced Internet access and restrictions on movement almost as much as I would revel in once again gallivanting around with my travelling companion and partaking of a culture I felt at home in – even though it was made clear to me that I would never, ever truly belong.

But then, would I recognize a sense of belonging if it slapped me in the face?  

Code-shifting has been a way of life for me. Flowing between languages and cultures, perhaps under ever-changing circumstances is really the only place I feel truly at home.