A New Perspective

Remember, a few posts back, how I groused about this city’s magnificent and not so magnificent edifices being marred by seemingly nonsensical graffiti?

I often wonder, in the case of this particular type of vandalism, where the perpretrators get the money to buy the paints and where they find the time to put their mark on buildings all over the city.

Would it be reasonable to think that those vandals must be adolescents or young adults? Or could gainfully employed citizens, possibly with a family to support, lead a double life: contributing member of society by day and ruffian by night?

Because surely, these acts are perpetrated at night. I have a hard time imagining, with all the people out and about during daylight hours, and the wailing sirens that proclaim an abundant police presence, that any paintbrush wielding miscreant could possibly dare practice his ‘art’ in front of an audience.

Unless marking buildings up is not illegal, here. More on that in a minute.

On the other hand...

The other day, I was getting ready for my daily walk when I heard a ruckus in the stairwell. I held off on leaving the house because I have a weird propensity for crabbing down the stairs backwards and don’t care to be seen doing so.

Why go down the stairs backwards? For one, it is easier on your skeleton: your knees and lower legs don’t suffer such an impact because the ball of your foot absorbs the shock.

For two, it’s safer – at least, for me, it is. As the bannister is on the left and my left arm is somewhat compromised, should I miss a stair for whatever reason, I would be unable to catch myself with my left arm. My right arm, on the other hand, is plenty strong, ensuring that, should I misstep when crabbing backwards, I would be able to catch myself.

Besides, you are less likely to misstep when going down the stairs backwards because that method is a more natural body movement. And your ankle giving way is less likely, too, because there is less tension on it.

Back to the story, now...

The stairwell noise continued unabated for several minutes. Clearly, this was not a case of rowdy neighbors coming home or leaving.

Remember that dog I told you about, the one that howls all day and wears a muzzle when out? I had not heard that dog for a couple of weeks already, nor had I seen those neighbors.

Assuming the persistent noise in the stairwell was them moving out or even someone else moving in, and that the stairwell would be occupied for a while, I decided to go, whether anyone would see me crab or not.

Turns out, the hoopla was generated by a couple of youths carrying takeout boxes and drink cups. I met them on the landing one floor below me, whereupon the boy that had rushed up the stairs past me asked which number apartment was next to mine.

Assuming (again!) that he was a university student and knowing that my next door neighbor is also a student, I presumed the boy on the stairs was looking for his classmate.

I had no qualms telling him which apartment number that door represented and continued down the stairs to discover upturned boxes on one landing, spilled soda on the next and the window hanging wide open on the lowest landing.

Making my way down the last treacherous set of stairs, those boys again rushed past me and, instead of going out the main door to the street, went out the back door, through the courtyard.

Their behavior being so strange, I pursued them and observed them leaping the fence encircling our little patch of green. They then took off running through the next building’s parking lot.

I thought ‘exhuberant youths’ and idled no more about it, instead enjoying my bit of exercise and fresh air. When I returned home, though...

As noted before, there was evidence of mischief on every landing: the spilt drink, the upturned boxes and, on my apartment’s landing, the roof access ladder had been taken off of its storage brackets and placed so that it blocked our landing’s third apartment door (not my door or the student’s door).

What else could I conclude other than vandals at work, in broad daylight?

~~~~~~~~~

Thursday night, the Szczecin English Language group met at the Venice Cafe.

Shortly after moving here, I started looking for groups I could join on Meetup and found two that welcome English speakers. That is how I met the lovely Emilia, who told me about Manhattan and Społem, and Jerzy, a worthy debate opponent.

Unfortunately, the former could not attend this get-together so it ended up being only Jerzy and I. The coversation rambled over a variety of topics including my frustration with my Polish language teacher and the global economy.

Somewhere in there, probably right after I insisted that learning a language and understanding a culture go hand in hand, we got on the subject of the local problem with graffiti.

“Really? There’s graffiti? I hadn’t noticed!” said Jerzy, much to my amazement.

I whipped out my phone and showed him the various images I had captured of such. Upon my expression of disbelief that one could hardly not notice it for its prevalence, he said:

“This is not bad. Twenty years ago, immediately after the fall of communism, there was such social unrest! People had nothing: no money, no job, no prospects and little chance at a higher education. At that time, graffiti was everywhere!”

That assertion begs the obvious question: if no one had any money, how could they buy paint?

“People would steal it: from factory yards, from building sites... even from stores.” he returned.

Through his descriptions, I got a vivid picture of what this city must have looked like at the time and how charged the atmosphere must have been. Coupling those visions with assertions I had read of organized crime and gang warfare, so rife in this city back then...

Seen from that perspective, but for a few untalented squiggles painted on building walls, the Szczecin of today barely resembles its past. Through Jerzy’s descriptions, I got a more realistic perspective on what I perceive as this city’s pervasive graffiti problem.

And those boys rampaging up and down our stairwell – clean-cut, well-dressed and polite when they asked me the question of apartment numbers, gave a new face, neither loutish nor brutish, to those who eagerly contribute to ordinary citizens’ discomfort.

Considering this city’s recent past – indeed the unrest and evolution that beset this entire country a mere 20 years ago, could one postulate that certain minor acts of vandalism are tolerated in order to stave off larger crime?

My quest is clear: find what there is to find on the social condition of this city 20 years ago.

~~~~~

Looking at the Polish language Wikipedia page, I found a list of festivals and social events that take place in Lodz.

My search for past photos and news articles led me to the Polish language Wikipedia site; the page  about festivals in Lodz came up because of a certain keyword. Let’s thank Google Translate that I was able to read it!

The International Graffiti Festival takes place every July.

First held in 2002 and annually since then, participating graffiti artists swap techniques and clue each other to the best paints for their favorite means of expression. The event culminates in a massive cooperation to create ‘a huge graffiti’.

That might indicate that city’s tolerance for that form of expression; indeed it might reflect the wider country’s attitude towards blowing off steam by marking up a few buildings with nonsensical doodles.

However, further scanning that list of festivals we find that, a few months later, that same city hosts the Colorful Tolerance campaign, whose main purpose is to expose, confront and oppose xenophobia and vandalism.

Now I’m torn: would I attend the Graffiti Festival for a chance to meet artists like Banksy and Robbo, or should I stand firm in confronting xenophobia and vandalism in general?

That question notwithstanding, the bigger issue is: would graffiti be considered vandalism?

If so, the two festivals are at cross-purposes. If not, I can now understand why lifelong dwellers of this city turn a blind eye to... what to me, are noisome scrawls.

I would like to discuss this idea with more Szczecin natives. However, our English club turnout is generally very small, in spite of the group boasting 50 members online, Jerzy has no intention of promoting any activities that would ensure greater turnout.

I guess I will have to work harder to learn this language so that I can ask others their thoughts on the topic of what I persist in seeing as petty vandalism.