Who am I? (kim ja jestem?)

This week's Economist defines one of this year's Nobel prize winners for economics, Christopher Pissarides, as a 'British Cypriot'. Wikipedia helpfully points out that Mr Pissarides is a) a Greek (rather than Turkish) Cypriot and b) he was born on Cyprus. [Note: he was born on not in Cyprus - the island's not big enough for 'in'. Australia is. In Polish it's the same: na Cyprze, but w Australii.] A British Cypriot? How very helpful. Does this make me a British Pole? But then I was born in Britain of Polish parents...

The reason for this post is today's Johnson blog, in which racial and national nomenclature comes under the spotlight. Some names are more controversial than others. Blacks? (African-Americans); Jews? (Jewish people); Gypsies? (Roma); Chinamen? (Asian-Americans). What's the preferred nomenclature, Dude?

Over to me and my kind. I was born in Britain to Polish parents and am now residing happily in Poland. There may be a couple of thousand more like me.

I recall several years ago shocking a professor at Toruń University by telling him that I consider myself "100% Polish and 100% British". He nodded sagely as I said the first part of the equation. His jaw dropped as I uttered the second. A mathematically-impossible sacrilege.

Yet I am entirely comfortable with this statement. I have no problem in blending in with a company of Poles (sure, I need to tidy up my case-endings and prepositions, but I'm told my vocabulary is OK) or with a company of Brits (maybe I need to update myself on the latest goings-on in Albert Square and current Premiership positions).

What then is the preferred nomenclature for people born in Britain of Polish parents and now living in Poland? Anglo-Poles? This is often used. I'm not so sure. Growing up in England, I never considered myself English. Yes, British certainly, but no more English than the child of Scottish or Welsh parents living in London.

I think that British Pole would do (no hyphen, thanks). British, adjective describing the noun, Pole. I am British by birth, citizenship and passport, will one day be receiving a full UK pension; I feel a greater residual respect for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II than I do for any here-today-gone-tomorrow Polish president (sorry, don't wish to offend, but that's just the way it is).

Yet I am emotionally very attached to Poland, Polish tradition, history and culture, Poles, the Polish landscape. I am here by choice; living in Poland is not for me a default setting. Polak brytyjskiego pochodzenia please; certainly not Anglik.

As teenagers, us British Poles would have long soul-searching discussions about kim ja jestem. This was never a problem to me. Am I my father's son, or my mother's son? Both of course. [Interestingly, English has two words for country of origin - motherland and fatherland - Polish just the one 'ojczyzna'.] I was raised by Britain and by Poland, a by-product of Yalta, not of economic migration. Paradoxically, I have felt less resentment towards me as a Pole in Britain than to me as a Brit in Poland. Though I guess the latter (on those rare occasion when it does surface) stems from material jealousy rather than any genuine sense of 'otherness'.

Poland does have it share of backward xenophobes, but these tend to be the demographic victims of transformation and poor education, so I can excuse them for their views. Similarly in the UK, the people who most dislike Poles are those at the bottom of the heap, displaced economically by a harder-working and more motivated people pushing down on wages just like the Okies did in California in the 1930s [warning: a Grapes of Wrath post coming soon].

And a final word in Polish: Mieszkam w Polsce, bo chcę mieszkać w Polsce.

[This time last year, we already had our first snow!]

In which I call a Blogmeet

It's been six months since Poland's leading English-language bloggers last sat down around a table groaning with fine foods and tankards of foaming ale. That was at Restauracja Nostalgia in Kraków, a memorable night. It's time for a Warsaw blogmeet. We have some new and reactivated bloggers emerging here in the capital, my bloglist (right) has recently been expanded and all the new links are to blogs that are Warsaw-based and in English.

May I suggest either 6th of 20th November, somewhere in Centrum (suggestions please!).

Invited are all bloggers, would-be bloggers, commentators, readers and well-wishers.

Hot topics of conversation will include latest trends in blogging, traffic stats and what can be done to increase readership, advertising (worth trying to monetise our endeavours or not?).

Please post a comment or personal message if you want to come along, stating preference for date. The last Warsaw blogmeet was at Piwna Kompania on Podwale (long table in an alcove set off from the main floor of the restaurant) - ideal location; if anyone has any alternatives where the fare is filling, the beer good and price amenable, please suggest.

Warsaw Metro vignette

So I'm on my way to work, leave the car at Ursynów Park+Ride and into the Metro. Last carriage, so I can get out at the Trasa Łazienkowska exit at Politechnika station. The carriage is full of primary school children - nine or ten years old, on an outing with their teachers. Most Warsaw Metro carriages now have flat screen TVs which transmit news headlines, weather, travel, local events and ads. The children, on their way to Centrum, are glued to the screen, reading aloud each news story and commenting on it. I'm impressed with their general knowledge.

Up comes news that the first of the trapped Chilean miners have reached the surface - and some 15 little voices raise a spontaneous cheer.

I find this scene delightful. The children have evidently been following the story over the past weeks - indeed months. Their reaction, so human, so genuine, touched me. I can see a great future for Poland in these intelligent and sensitive citizens-to-be.

Will it ever be thus?

Returning from work on the Metro this evening I saw the return of black-ribboned flags on the platforms at all the station. Clearly something significantly tragic had happened.

A van carrying 18 agricultural workers had ploughed head-on into the front of an oncoming truck in fog on the wrong side of the road in Nowe Miasto nad Pilicą. The six-seater van was carrying 18 people; 14 men and four women. Six on two rows of seats, a further 12 (!) seated on crates and planks in the back. It seems the driver of the van overtook a slower moving vehicle in the fog to collide head-on with the truck. Unrestrained by seatbelts, 16 of the people in the van died on the spot; the remaining two died in hospital.

This is the worst single accident on Poland's roads since 1994. While this is a huge and concentrated loss of life, it is but part of a larger sorrowful picture. Per million citizens, the number of people dying in road accidents in Poland is three times as many as in the UK.

This is not just a story about crazy Polish drivers. It is also about the poverty and hopelessness in Poland's countryside that seems scarcely touched by the civilisational leaps that urban Poland has been making.

Poland's cities are seen the fastest rates of growth, earnings have shot up; unemployment is lower in urban Poland than in urban Britain. But the countryside has been left behind in the nation's dash to catch up with western Europe (see this post from May). The people in the van were off to pick apples. Because the money was (for them) good - 10 złotys (a little over £2!) an hour, there was no shortage of people willing to squeeze into the van travel to the orchards around Grójec. The victims came from around the same village, Drzewica, near Opoczno (unemployment rate in the district: 14.1%. Warsaw's is 3.4%).

Little details emerge the paint a typical picture of rural Poland. The driver and two of his brothers killed in the crash were from a family of eight. A surviving brother said he too, would have gone but he lost some fingers in an accident and so could not pick fruit; he has to get by on long-term disability benefit.

In the UK, official attitudes to health and safety are exaggerated the other way (to the detriment of civil liberties), but given the accident statistics, the British way does save lives. The fatality rate on British building sites for example is three times lower than in Poland (5 deaths per 100,000 workers compared to 15). And just look at all those Polish drivers with their mobile phones clamped to one ear as they navigate their car with one hand.

There is a particularly blase attitude to road safety in Poland. The Economist picks up on this. Look at the photo at the top of the Economist story; a pregnant woman with her two small children is crossing the road at a zebra crossing. The driver of red Nissan Micra (PO 141AF) is not stopping to let them cross safely. NAME AND SHAME! This photo made me boil with anger. This is chamstwo - boorishness writ large. Selfishness, impatience, a total lack of regard for other road users. Driving in England I cherish the courtesy, common sense and patience of the vast majority of British road users, which is translated directly into lower accident rates.

If we think things are bad in Poland, spare a thought for neighbouring Ukraine. This very day, a bus was hit by a train at a level crossing there killing 44 people.

But was England always such a safe country for driving? I'm minded of John Betjeman's Meditation on the A30, written 50 years ago;

"...that lorry won't let me get past,
this Mini is blocking my way...

...Who dares to come hooting at me?
I only give way to a Jag.

"You're barmy or plastered, I'll pass you, you bastard
-I will overtake you. I will!"
As he clenches his pipe, his moment is ripe
And the corner's accepting its kill."

Or from his poem Executive (1973):

"...I've a scarlet Aston Martin - and does she go? She flies!
Pedestrians and dogs and cats, we mark them down for slaughter."

While the marques are still with us (though no longer British-owned), the behaviour has changed; drink-driving and speeding are no longer socially acceptable. I just hope for the sake of the tens of thousands destined to die on Poland's roads in forthcoming years that the shift in attitudes will happen quickly. (Incidentally, do any contemporary Polish poets vent their ire at road users' bad behaviour?)

Yesterday's accident at Nowe Miasto nad Pilicą should not be forgotten. It should remain in the national consciousness as testimony to what happens when basic rules of road safety are so blithely ignored. The media and government should educate. The three days of mourning in Mazowieckie and Łódzkie provinces should be a time when seated behind your steering wheel to contemplate your own sins as a driver.

Warsaw: difficult to navigate in one's mind

After landing in Warsaw, the out-of-towner's mind soon becomes troubled by the city's street names - in particular the profusion of bisyllabic ones ending with the letter 'a'. This causes immense problems in the minds of newly-arrived foreigners trying to get their heads around the geography of Poland's capital, especially after acquiring a superficial acquaintance with the place.

I was reminded of the troubles I used to have as a newcomer to the city when Eddie and I drove up ul. Dolna ('Lower Street') yesterday. You see, Warsaw not only has a Dolna, it also has a Rolna, a Polna , a Smolna and indeed a Wolna (Agrarian, Field, Tarry and Free Streets, respectively). As well as the above-mentioned Dolna (Lower Street) there is also a Górna (Upper Street). There's a Pańska, a Piękna, and a Próżna (Lord's Street, Beautiful Street and Empty Street). A Złota and a Srebrna (Gold and Silver Streets).  A Zielna (Herbal) and a Dzielna (Brave) Street. A Biała (White), a Szara (Grey), a Żółta (Yellow) street, though no Czarna (Black) one. A Chłodna, a Zimna and indeed even a Ciepła (Cool, Cold and Hot Streets). A Stara (Old), a Nowa (New) and a Młoda (Young). Rhyming opposites too. A Wiejska (Rural) and a Miejska (Urban) Street. 

Many's the time I was appointed for a meeting at ul. Piękna only to turn up at the same number building on Pańska (see below) or at Chłodna (see above) to arrive on Chmielna (Hop Street). Talking of hops, there's also an ul. Piwna (Beer Street). When you feel like you've had enough, there's a Syta (Replete Street). There's a Kolska and a Polska, a Fińska (Finnish) and a Saska (Saxon Street). A Prosta (Straight Street), an Ostra (Sharp Street), a Kątna (Angled Street), a Kręta (Winding Street), a Mała (Small Street), Wązka (Narrow Street), Ciasna (Tight Street), a Krótka (Short Street) and therefore by implication also a Długa (Long Street). These opposites are usually at opposite ends of town, so if you get it wrong, you get it really wrong. Did I hear you say 'Długa?' Or 'Pługa' (Plough Street). Feeling capricious? Check out Kozia (Goat's Street), west of the New Town and Koźla (Goatish Street), south of the Old Town.

Famous Poles with monosyllabic names add to the confusion, as the streets take on the genitive form which often end in a letter 'a'; ul. Pola (after poet Wincenty Pol) or ul. Prusa (after writer Bolesław Prus). [Post-war street naming convention has determined that there be an initial after the famous person's surname to indicate the street is indeed named after a person - as in ul. Paca M.] A propos streets named after foreigners, the old convention of polonising the first name (Karola Dickensa, Ludwika Pasteura) or even both (Jerzego Waszyngtona) has given way to keeping both names in the original form (Johna Lennona, Indiry Gandhi).

Some more bisyllabic street names ending in 'a': Dobra (Good Street), Radna (Council Street), Dawna (Ancient, Old or Former Street), Smolna (Tar Street), Spólna (Common Street), Piesza (Pedestrian Street), Ludna (Populous Street), Wróbla (Sparrow Street). More birds? Kacza (Duck Street), Pawia (Peacock Street), [the parallel street in what was the Warsaw Ghetto, Gęsia (Goose Street) has since been re-named for the leader of the Ghetto Uprising, ul. Anielewicza)] There may no longer be an ul. Gęsia, but there's still a Gęsta (Dense Street). A propos of the Ghetto, the bunker in which the Jewish fighters made their last stand was on ul. Miła (Pleasant or Charming Street).

Estate agents no doubt have trouble trying to sell properties on streets such as Błotna (Muddy Street). Ul. Chludna (Glorious, commendable or praiseworthy) is a nicer-sounding address. As is ul. Znana (Well-known Street), or ul. Dzielna (Brave, or Courageous Street). Ul. Szumna could either be Sumptuous, Grand or High-flown Street - or else it could be Murmuring Street. A propos of which there's also a Cicha (Silent Street), as well as a Głucha (Deaf Street). There's a Ciemna (Dark Street), so therefore there is also a Jasna (Bright Street). There's a Mokra (Wet Street) but no Sucha (Dry Street) - but there is an Aleja Szucha (where the Gestapo had its headquarters in Nazi-occupied Warsaw).

Touched by greatness

Moni meets singing sisters, Charlotte (left) and Harriett (right) Webb, the Webb Sisters, who are in Warsaw to sing with Leonard Cohen. Yesterday, Moni and I showed the sisters round the Warsaw Uprising museum, and Moni got a pair of tickets for the Sunday evening performance, and a chance to go backstage after the concert to meet the band. Moni is accompanied by her friend Oleńka, with whom she has been singing in church and on stage for the past three years, so the chance to see two singers performing at this level was a real thrill for both girls.

Oleńka and Moni will be appearing live on stage later this month in a concert at the trendy Centralny Basen Artystyczny for a 40-minute set.

Moni's impressions of the concert are similar to mine. Leonard Cohen is the consumate performer, giving it all to his audience. Another three and half hour set. At the height of his artistic powers, his dignity and poetry are showcased in the context of an incredibly gifted and professional band. And Moni got to meet the great man in person.

Our daily bread

One of the great unsung joys of the Polish kitchen is bread. An ordinary, crusty loaf bought fresh first thing this morning. It is unlike anything you can readily buy in Britain. Visitors to Poland are amazed by its wholesome flavour.

It has to be bought fresh; and it sells out quickly. I have to wake up early on Saturdays to ensure a loaf and a Gazeta Wyborcza (the paper also sells out quickly) from our local grocery shop Tomasz by W-wa Jeziorki station. If I get to the shop after 9:30, there's no guarantee I'll find either.

This bread is so tasty that I can eat the end bit and two or three slices without even spreading butter let alone putting anything else on it. Running the loaf through the bread-slicer produces a pleasant crunching sound, like a foot landing softly on dry twigs.

And note the sticker on the bread! No unnecessary packaging. Reminiscent in the stark simplicity of its marketing message to replacement labelling (etykiety zastępcze) used in Poland during the 1980s.

Due to this summer's Russian drought and central European floods, wheat prices have almost doubled and the loaf above now costs 3 zlotys (66p at yesterday's exchange rates). A year ago, the same loaf was 1.80 zlotys.

The standard Polish loaf has but one drawback; due to lack of flour enhancer, its sell-by date is measured in hours rather than weeks (as is the case with British bread). By this evening, the remains of this loaf will have lost most of the crunchiness in the crust and the texture will become heavier. An evening kolacja based on the morning's bread served traditionally with cheeses and smoked meats does not offer the same delight to the palate as a fresh-bread breakfast.

But what's left over from the previous morning makes for good frying bread the next day. Put some fried polędwica łososiowa (thin slices of cured pork loin) onto the fried bread, serve with sliced tomatoes and fresh corriander (or Branston pickle*). Nothing should go to waste; bread is still treated in Poland with near-religious respect.

* Branston pickle: 400g jar for 12 zlotys at Kuchnie Świata in Złoty Tarasy. Essential for cheeses and meats.

A glorious week

The sun has shone all week, barely a cloud in the sky, no rain since last Friday. While the sun shines, you'd better make hay - or continue cycling to work in my case. Below: this morning in the Las Kabacki forest. Does this not compare most favourably to sitting in a jam on Puławska? Note the greenery of the leaves; only the russet-coloured forest floor suggests it's already autumn.

All week, the wind blew cold and strong from the south east; a strange direction for cold strong winds. Usually, a south-easterly will be balmy, bringing with it hints of the Black Sea, and Tartary beyond. On Tuesday I experienced something very unusual - continuous gusts of wind strong enough to rattle windowpanes and chimneypots - in the presence of clear blue skies. My usual experience of such equinoxial gales is of scudding clouds chasing each other pell-mell across a leaden firmament.

A bicycle affords you the luxury of taking a slightly different way on every journey. Explore, find new streets along which you've never yet been. Above: ul. Ludowa, the Morskie Oko apartment building caught by the rays of the setting sun. Polarising filter cranked up to the max.