The reasons for having no liking for Poland - Visit in the Royal Greenhouse

I'm not big fan of Poland. I don't like the country for many reasons and I'm always frank about that. This matter occurred quite often in our conversations and usually met great deal of people's disapproval. Poles took it personally and other people were trying to act as defenders, which is psychologically understandable. They were annoyed with me, not complaining maybe but having nothing good to say abut the country, and I, on the other hand, was tired of them trying to keep my mouth shout. Much has changed after our visit in the Royal Greenhouse...

We were lucky to have traineeship in summer term. The Royal Greenhouse is open for visitors for only one month every year (april/may) . It's huge, like a labyrinth. Visiting it was very pleasing experience. I recommend it to everyone. You can watch some photos here. I picked up a guy there. We decide he would be perfect for Kata. We were following him, taking pictures of him and having fun with the whole thing. Finally I approached him and gave him Kata's phone number. He had troubles understanding me and unfortunately I don't speak French at all. I believe he got the idea what it was all about but he has never made use of that number. Maybe it would be otherwise if I had opportunity to show her to him, to introduce them to each other. So, that was one of our unfortunate matchmaking attempt, which I was writing about two entries below, that ended as failure.

After visiting the Royal Greenhouse, on our way back, we stopped by sleazy bar. I don't know why but it was fun, I recall it with pleasure feelings following. And we had significant conversation there. I was attacked again for expressing my dislike for Poland and making, according to girls, Marta miserable by that. I decided to do something about that that time. I made my performance and apparently I did it well since it brought desire results. Maybe there was too much emotions in it, it was a little overacted since it didn't only make girls realize I am in no better condition than Marta is (worse even maybe considering she's fine in Poland and I'm not) but also made them embarrassed by my emotions a bit, I believe.

I'm sure it was not pleasurable for other Poles to hear me complaining and I understand other people sympathize with them but it was symptomatic that nobody cared how I could feel. They like Poland I don't and I still have to live there. Anyway, from that time on I reduced mentioning my lack of satisfaction of being Pole and girls were trying to show some patience every time I did. One of crucial moments for us, at least for me.

I liked Kathrin's reactions on someone trying to convince me I should go back to Poland to live there and fight for changes, heedless for the fact I want to live my life other way. Whenever someone said something like that Kathrin acted like wise, older sister taking care of me. She was saying that I should stay and have nice life there, no question about hat. It was warm as hell. :-)

Copernicus, Chopin, Kieślowski...

When I was in Germany people were trying to convince me Chopin was French. During my stay in Belgium they were doing the same when it comes to Copernicus, claiming he was German. You should know many Poles react very badly to that. We don't have many folks who would be worldwide famous, who would have great contribution to humankind development or to humanity in any other way. That's why when someone tries to deprive us of those few that belong to us, that we can be proud of, we're not very happy with that.

What I liked, on the other hand, was a situation with some Belgian guy. When I told him I come from Poland, surprisingly he didn't mention Lech Wałęsa or John Paul II. Mentioning them makes sick some of us because it makes us realize what I already mentioned above - that we don't have many well known figures and people always mention those two. You know who he mentioned? Krzysztof Kieślowski. Oh, I was very happy with that. Kieślowski was brilliant master indeed. You could have heard of his "Three Colors" or "The Decalogue". Did you watch Tykwer's "Heaven"? It was inspired by Kieślowski's work. Try also his documentary short movies. They're brilliant, however they may to be too hermetic for non-Poles.

People were telling me sometimes they're sure there are some very famous Poles which have some great achievements. However, once I mentioned some of them by name those names didn't say anything to those people. I remember Agnes asked me once about Polish artists. I mentioned Magdalena Abakanowicz and Igor Mitoraj. She didn't know them, didn't recognize the names. And that's it, Abakanowicz, Mitoraj, Kantor, Grotowski... They are very famous, very distinguish, known worldwide but only by people who are into art or theater. It's not like with Bergman or Herzog, or Brecht. Everyone knows them. When you hear the name Picasso or Dali the bell rings immediately.

Maria Skłodowska-Curie discovered two elements, she is the only person to win Nobel Prizes in two sciences. And still, does anyone know her? Those who do, believe she was French and she probably called one of the discovered elements Polon without the reason or maybe to emphasize her French origin.

Aleksander Wolszczan, Polish astronomer, discovered first planets in nonsolar planetary system. Great discover for humankind. Did you ever hear about him? And still, you're certainly familiar with such names as Alfred Nobel, Astrid Lindgren, Johan Gutenberg, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jan Sebastian Bach, Ludwig van Beethoven...

Hopefully you will at least remember now that Copernicus was Polish. Dick Solomon may help you to memorize that. Do you know this TV show "3Rd Rock from the Sun"? One of two, just next to the "Office", which makes me laugh no matter what.

Our traineeship's motto and anthem

Our motto was: Männer sind Schweine! I believe it was Marta's proposal. It means: men are swine. And when it comes to our anthem you can listen to it below. It was introduced to us by Kathrin.

Matchmaking

Being in Brussels I was looking for a guy for Jan. Not that I would make special effort to achieve my goal. I didn't belong to gay community so I didn't have much opportunity for that but once a chance occurred to me I took advantage of it. My first attempt was with a guy I've in EP who was very much like Jan, Jan's cup of tea (one of Jan's favorite expressions). I introduced him to Jan via (one of Jan's favorites words) e-mail. There was no answer so I contacted the guy. Jan's silence made me convinced they know each other already but I wanted to be sure. He answered, was nice and confirmed what I was thinking. So that was it.

My second attempt was already in Poland. A guy invited me to his friends on Facebook. Very attractive, nice, elegant as Jan, enjoying flowers as Jan, politician. He found Jan attractive, unfortunately I was few months late because he was already out of market. No luck that time either.

Finding a guy for each other was actually one of our favorites and most hated games in Brussels. Each of us, except for me, wanted to find a guy. EP turned out not to be the best environment for that. I mean, there was a lot of interesting guys (even though most of them gay) and there was constant motion on the market however every product turned out to be damaged after some time of using it. I have to admit I was much more successful in matchmaking in Poland. My few attempts in Brussels were failures. Those were funny stories however I will not try to describe it because girls would like to kill me after me doing that. It's better for them not to know. ;-)

Brussels - the city where underground happens to go above ground and trams happen to go under ground

This movie renders my mood since I'm back and reminds me of Brussels very much. Even though these shoots were taken in Paris I could see very similar views every time (at least twice a day) I was taking metro from Laeken, where I used to live, to the center and back. I loved those trips.

Misconceptions about prejudices

I found the book of Jeff Marano in the Centre of Contemporary Art's bookshop in September last year. I don't consider his photos something special but the bodies he takes pictures of are worth to take a look at. There is nothing more beautiful than human body.

They had exhibition "Flowers of our Lives" that was focused on the collecting things issue. There was installation of Turkish artist, Kutlug Ataman, titled "Stefan's Room". It was actually documentary movie with four extra screenplays around the viewer. It was telling a story of young German guy who was collecting butterflies and had over 30.000 of them. Gay motive was of course unavoidable. Czech and gay motives were persecuting me. It was very good, simple story but covered number of topics. Ataman makes also future films but they're nothing special.


I wasn't oriented on Turkish matters without a reason. After Hana left us for good, Deniz moved in for less than two weeks. The greatest young mind in Turkey. Can you imagine? He had scholarship for the best student in the entire Turky. Meeting him was very salutary experience for me. He was attractive, social, real fine young man. However, I was afraid he will reject me once he'll find out I'm gay. You know, we are fed with those convictions that Muslims has no understanding for gay issue. What can I say? Deniz definitely wasn't lacking in that kind of understanding.

But once occurred even more surprising situation considering the reception of gay people by Muslims. We went the whole group to Dawid. We dropped by a shop before paying him a visit. Young, beautiful (not handsome, just beautiful), Muslim judging by his features guy was cashier in there. Girls were buying and paying and I was admiring him, staring open-mouthed at him. What did he do? He didn't express his possible displeasure caused by my affection, disapproval or embarrassment which would be definitely the case in Polish shop. He smiled at me warmly. Oh, I was ecstatic. Agnes even noticed his smile.

My stay in Brussels definitely caused me not to perceive Muslims from the angle of their religion. My prejudices about their prejudices vanished.

The shop clerk situation was not the only one involving me staring at someone insistently that was completely new to me. When we went with Marta to Antwerp and I cast a glance at a guy which I do constantly that particular one paid back my look. It was full of admiration, very flirty. He was too old for my taste but it was astonishing and somehow pleasurable. I'm not used to it. In Poland admire handsome guys is always one-way relation. One of many differences between Belgium and Poland, between my wonderful life there and my miserable existence here.

Dogs

Dog in Brussels

Doggy in Toruń

Taxi by night

I'm not quite sure why but taking taxi in the evenings reminded me of Brussels very much.

Au Pont Saint Martin

We went to that restaurant during our stay in Strasbourg. With my persuasion we choose Pont Saint Martin. When I go somewhere I want to try everything the place has to offer. If not what is the point of making afford of going there at first place? When I noticed that restaurant I was very insisting of eating there, just over the water. I've ordered snails. I tasted them for the first time in my life. If tasting snails, then only in France. The meet has been too tough for my taste but tasted well.


The pleasure of going there was doubled by Kata's MEP eating there at the same time we went there. Kata was trainee in her office once and was crazy about her since then. She could meet her there not maybe thanks to me but because of me. I was happy because of her happiness. And I gave myself credit for that.

Once you go to Strasbourg visit the restaurant. Andras, you told me you've never been in Strasburg. Take Jaana and go there once, guys. I have to warn you though that being there one can fell like trapped in zoo cage since many tourists make photos of the building because of its scenic beauty.

The day I bought my hemba

I didn't brought any CDs, I brought, however, small African sculpture, hemba statue. Purchase of it has its beginning during my trip to Paris. I bought a small hemba in Louvre, as a souvenir from my journey to Paris. You can see it on the photo below, among other items every of each symbolizes one of us, EP Library trainees 2008.


It's quite popular artifact. You'll find at least few of them in every single African shop in Brussels. In the biggest shops there are really many of them, very diverse. It's amazing, some of them seem to be inspired by a work of western artists from the XX century. I found one which enthralled me completely. Proportions of it were unusual. Normally hembas are slim and this one was short with big belly. What made me fall in love with it was however something else, its lips. They're enormously large. Usually hembas have mouth hardly outlined mouth. This one is really unique.

It cost 150 euros. Normally I wouldn't think of buying so expensive item only to fulfill my esthetic needs, only for a pleasure. But it happened that summer sale took place that week and every item in that shop was selling with 50% discount. It was great opportunity, especially that I could effort expense of 70 euros. On the other hand my departure was approaching and every cent was important to me. I had a tough nut to crack...

I had no idea how I would manage to take to the plane but I finally bought it. I remember asking Agnes for advice. She was amazing. If you ask her for an advice you can be sure she will consider the issue carefully and will give balanced opinion. At first she was skeptical. She thought it's not good idea to buy African artifacts in Belgium, she believed one should buy them when going to Africa. However, when Marta and I convicted her that Brussels is not only the capital city of Belgium and Europe but it may also be easily considered as capital city of Africa in Europe, she took my dilemma into consideration and she gave me the answer that fully satisfied me. ;-) Not all of my doubts were gone but it's always better to regret eventually things that we did than the ones that we abandoned to do.

My hemba is covered with African dust, I've never cleared it out. It has spider web between legs and his privates, and he has some holes made by woodworm. Its color is different than the photos show, it's dark brown. It smelled very intensively for a long time. I liked to think it was a smell of Africa. I packed him with wrap and towels on it to avoid any damage during the flight. Every time I was drying myself with those towels later I could smell it very clearly. I enjoyed that sensation very much.




So here we are - me and my hemba, both homeless. It's not smart move to have children when you are homeless. And buoying art objects once you have no place to expose them is profanation of art.

I recall that day, the day of buying my hemba, with all the details. That day I saw Jaana for the last time. We went to the park. She was talkative, full of warmness but at that point I was not able to feel fine anymore. It was very close to departure. I knew I won't see Jan anymore and it disturbed me. I was angry, agitated. I asked a waiter for Pepsi with ice and he brought me one with no ice. I asked him to take it back. I never do such things. Usually I make remark that it's not what I ordered so he would know he doesn't do his job well but I take what he prepared since I don't feel comfortable causing other people troubles.

There was a time I regretted I didn't buy also Tibetan dorje (vajra). There was a shop in Brussels where one can buy the authentic one. It cost about 200 euros so there was no way for me to buy it but still I felt uncomfortable not having it. It made my heart beating faster every time I saw it. It was the first time in my life I could see such artifact. My regret is gone now thanks to friend of mine, Rafael. He employed quite effective therapy on that subject. He made me realize that bringing item like that to Europe probably cost lives or wellbeing of some Tibetans. That's likely and it made me not to want it anymore. But it also made me wonder if my hemba didn't come do Europe by burning some Congo village to the ground...

I bought imitation of dorje when I went with Marta to Antwerp. I never make photos, I always bring souvenirs from my trips.

Brussels by Night with a cup of neuhaus chocolate

I tried to cheer myself up every now and then with a cup of neuhaus chocolate which I brought from Belgium. I enjoyed everything that brought me closer to Brussels. I had no intention to cut my addiction off even though it was, as every dependency, destroying for myself. Keeping contact with people I've met there was however too harmful, I hadn't enough strength to do it. I was making attempt every time I felt stronger, I felt being ready but eventually those attempts made me always much more depressed so I avoided it. Besides girls didn't experience difficulties as myself and even though they stopped writing eventually too. Humans.

I've finally find the courage to watch "Brussels by Night" that I bought in BOZAR Shop. Great movie and fortunately not very much about Brussels. As I could find out later by watching the interview with the director, the title was coincidental.



The movie that made much greater impression on me was "In the City of Sylvia" by José Luis Guerín. The city mentioned in the title is Strasbourg. Very poetic movie, almost like a fairytale. It hardly might be called masterpiece but in my subjective reception it was absolutely brilliant. It's absolute affirmation of life. It's also real pearl for photo lovers. If you like Strasbourg you have to watch it. Oh, it was great discover! What main character does is also my prime activity, except for drawing. I'm also fascinated with people and cities. Observing them and taking pleasure from it is one of my most basic reasons to live.



The movie should be watched in cinema. I'm convinced it has much more impact when showing on big screen. In case you'll encounter difficulties getting it, let me know, I would gladly share.

It's interesting clash because the other movie from that period that became embedded in my memory tells about stagnation and resignation rather than joyfulness of life. However it ends with bright spark too. It's titled "The Visitor" and was directed by Thomas McCarthy. In case you're convinced American can not do good movies, you should watch it. I'm quite sure you'll change your mind. It proofs good American cinema didn't finish at eighties.



I perceive the main character as counterpart of mine. Academic teacher in stagnation still open however to discover new aspects of life and meet new people, very different from himself. It moved me strongly however I wasn't convinced with the final, I didn't believe it. Maybe because I just don't see the right place for myself, I didn't discover the right path in my own life yet. I would gladly get to know your opinion.

Thanks to "The Visitor" I discovered the music of Fela Kuti, great African musician.



African music is everywhere in Brussels. I regret I didn't buy any CDs. One of very few things I regret.

Cultural desert

Cultural desert. That's what my city seemed to be for me after my arrival. And you should know it's considered as very cultural by Poles. Oh, it was hard too. I came back from place when even on holidays one could visit more than 20 exhibitions or one of four movie theaters showing noncommercial artistic movies. The next day after my arrival I learnt that the only movie theater playing such movies in Toruń was closed down two days earlier.

No interesting, beautiful people, no movies nor cultural life in general, no recreation. Do you see any reason to keep living here?

I was keeping trace of cultural events in Brussels. I still do! Klarafestival was (and is) coming at the end of August. Last year Il Giardino Armonico had its concert on that festival. I love them, I've never had opportunity to listen to their music live.



The concert of Ornette Coleman was announced to take place in October. I wanted to get to know about it one of my friends who is big fun of him but I've never done it. I was so out of live. That friend of mine couldn't probably go for the concert anyway since it would be too big expense but if he stayed at my friends and found some cheap flight maybe he would. I'll never know. It doesn't matter now. What matters I couldn't let the past go and I still can't.

Keith Jarrett will give a concert this year. He's also jazz of international renown musician but I have CD with his performance of Bach's sonatas for viola da gamba and cembalo.

United in diversity vs. United in uniformity

What I miss more, however, is not comfortable, fine life, it's diversity. All people here are similar, uninteresting, ugly, ordinary, united in uniformity. In Belgium even homeless people hide some interesting stories. At least yhey look like they would. At every corner you can meet African people wearing their ethnical dresses, orthodox Jews or Muslims praying on that grass that I mentioned in my last entry. Can you imagine the situation that someone approaches you to ask what time it is and precedes the question by the other one - Do you speak polish? It happed to me once. Belgium women asked if I speak French. Diversity is a norm there. And regrettably it's exception in Poland.

Grassy grass vs. Polish grass

It's quite difficult to express why being back is so bad. The symbol which may illustrate pretty accurately the difference between living there and here is... grass. Yes, grass. And I don't mean marihuana by that. However access to the last one is also much easier in Belgium than it is in Poland.

I loved to go to Parc de Bruxelles (the one in the center) and lying on the grass in the sun. The grass was green, soft, thick and clean. Like a carpet. You really didn't need any blanket to lay on it. You will not find place like that in Poland even though we've got places which are supposed to be lawns. Usually there is no grass there, some remains of it only, which are brown, burned, full of dirt and weeds, very unpleasant and ugly. That's it. Things which could be nice and handy are not like that in Poland. Things which are supposed to be pleasant aren't like that either.

We don't have parks similar to Belgian parks. The ones we have don't look like the Belgian ones, maybe except for Łazienki Królewskie in Warsaw. One exception then, and still, I'm not sure what is the quality of the grass in there. They are dark, ugly, untended. People are rather afraid of going there since it's full of hooligans instead of being full of life, people playing, having fun and so on which is standard in Brussels.

Sad country with sad people. Not suitable for someone who prefer being cheerful.

Buying bright side of life

I bought Burkhard's exhibition catalogue. Buying it I was really enjoying my Belgian life. I have been earning there more than 1000 euros per month and the catalogue cost 36 euros, I didn't even notice that expense. In Poland, on the other hand, even though I have also earned 1000 per month (polish currency of course so it was about 250 euros) I couldn't afford even to go to any exhibition since the journey itself was too expensive, not mentioning buying a catalogue once I would go there. Buying it would cost me more than 100zł which was 10% of my monthly income which I have spent entirely on the most basic needs in two weeks and tried to survive somehow for the rest of the month… Oh yes, my life in Belgium was fine.

It was one of the most severe daily difficulties when I came back - everything seemed to be unbearable expensive, some things cost even five times more than it used to in Belgium, like my favorites as chips or kinder snacks! I realized I need to learn again how to make groceries. I was spending too much money on it. In Belgium small groceries cost me about 15, big ones 50, in Poland - 50 regular ones and 250 the big ones. It was quite shocking.

I could afford buying actimel being in Belgium, I could afford everything I needed and wanted and was still able to save some money for paying my polish debts back. For God sake, I could go to Paris without saving money, just taking some from one salary. I have never, in my entire life, managed to go to Paris from Poland!

When I want to go to Warsaw and back from where I am now I have to spent 200zł for such a journey, 20% of my monthly income. My budget gets ruined in that case. Being in Belgium I could go to Paris and back with Thalys (!) paying only 25 euros (!) for the trip, which was 2,5% of my monthly income. I could make calls to Poland for 0,50 per minute. In Poland only national calls cost me 0,09 more.

I could normally live for the first time in my life in Belgium and now this life's gone. Don't wonder I'm depressed. When you spent all your money on room and food, when you can not afford anything, when you can not go to dentist, when you use one pair of shoes for seven years – the bright side of life disappears.

Gayness in the air

Do you know even one countertenor that wouldn't be gay? The percentage of gay men is unexpectedly high not only among singers of classical music. The question about the number of gay guys around us occurred quite often to us during our work in EP. And it's no wonder this matter absorbed us so much since every second guy we've met in EP seemed to be gay.

It was quite funny in the Library since there were two Jans and Jaana and all of them gay. And they were not the only ones representatives of that minority in the Library.

Marco, the guy in sandwich bar. I didn't buy a sandwich once but I went there almost every time girls did just to take a look on him. He sent me invitation on Facebook one day but it stays unclear to me if he did it because he noticed I admired him or it just happened. He never answered my e-mail, probably because it was written in English of course.

Hana told me once she heard the rate of gay men in EU institutions is 15%. (For those who don't know - the percentage of gay men in the whole population is about 4%.) I don't think anyone ever made a real research on that subject. However we stayed under the impression they are even more.

There is association for gay people working in EU institutions called Egalite and the additional one for stagiaires, at least it was when Maris Sergejenko was a stgiaire (in Michael Cashman's office, gay MEP).

We agreed with Jan Brussels is paradise for gay people. Gay shops, gay clubs, gay baths, gay travel agency... You name it. Everything may be gay in Brussels if you want it to be. The whole gay district even. Differently than it is in Poland gay guys don't avoid eye contact with other gay guys met on the street. They don't need to be afraid. I was invited not for a date maybe but for a meeting in the first month of my traineeship. Such things never happen to me in Poland.

I painfully experience absolute straightness of everything around these days.

The sentence - deportation

One year has passed today since my comeback to Poland. Yet I remember very clearly every single detail of the day which I have left Brussels on. Packing my staff took me half a night. I went to sleep at 2:00 am. And I slept only two hours since I had to wake up at 4:00 am to catch the plane. I woke up crying. It was very strange because I cried unconsciousness, I cried before I even realized that it was the day of my departure. And I didn't stop crying till my arrival at airport in Warsaw. I cried taking shower and going with by taxi to the airport.

Everything was planned and on time, as it's usually with me. However I left few pajamas in the closet and I had to take them in the last moment to the hand. There was no time to pack them since taxi was already waiting. I hardly managed to take my 30-kg-weight - as I found out later at the airport – suitcase to the ground floor, was sweating a lot. I could still feel the presence of Hana and Gianluca, my flatmates, when was leaving the flat, even though they left it days before me. I could smell marihuana or maybe I imagined it. It was hot outside though it was still dark. The taxi fare was really hard for me, especially when we reached Zavente and I could see the Brussels from above, thousands of tiny blinking lights that cities are made of at nights. I will never forget the view. There was one more particularly difficult moment. The song "Happy Birthday" by Stevie Wonder was being played on the radio. It was the song that I gave Jan on CD for his birthday. In that moment I was asking - rather myself than God since I don't dare to talk to Him because of my doubts considering His nature and His existence - why He was making it even harder for me than it's already been. What was the purpose of it? And of course the rational part of myself has immediately signalized that no Gad had anything to do with it, it was simple coincidence, simple even though so inconvenient for me.

It's stared to dawn when we arrived to the airport. The taxi company has assured me they have special price of fares to the airport. However the driver asked me to pay as for regular one. He thought probably I'm a tourist who doesn't know a thing. It reminded me many people which I've met in EP in those five months, including my friend, and which often didn't thing I know a thing about anything. How could I since I didn't look as they did, didn't behave as they did, didn't like what they did or did't wear as they did. Weirdo is weirdo. Anyway, I paid the driver as much as he wanted and I didn't say a thing about it. I was not capable of heaving conversation and demanding what was mine. I just wanted that horrible journey, the most horrible journey in my life and one of the most horrible experience generally, to be over.

I knew I had too heavy luggage and would have to pay extra for it. We were talking about in the office, sharing tips how to avoid that payment. First rule was to pick up a male flight attendant since guys are more understanding. Our second advise was to make jokes about me being so small and try to make excuse of it for my suitcase being so big. I've ignored all of it. I didn't have the clear had at all and didn't feel like trying that. So I choose the women even though the guy was sitting next to her. I was wearing sun glasses and was trying not to look in their direction because I didn't want them to see me crying. She said my suitcase was overweight and I would have to pay extra for it. I didn't try even to change her mind. I said really rude way something like: "OK, if I have to pay, I will pay, what else can I do!". She stared to talk to her colleague. They were speaking Dutch. I could only understand that she was asking him where I have to go to make payment. They were talking a lot and suddenly she said: "That's ok sir, you can go". I didn't show my surprise, I didn't even thank the proper way. I just felt relief it was over and I could go further.

I am like Freud who used to arrive to railway stations half an hour before train departure. I was two hours before my plane departure, I had to wait a lot. I wanted to send one more e-mail to Jan, the last one, but for the reason that stays unclear to me till today, the wi-fi in my laptop didn't work.

When I arrived at the gate there were already people sitting around, I remember especially a group of young people and a noun. I took a chair in the corner, I wanted to be separated from all of them. I was crying, all the time. I wanted to do something...

Jaana told me like million times I can always call her, day or night. I decided to make use of her kindness. I called her, it was about seven o'clock, I was sure she was still sleeping. I told her that how hard it was for me and asked her to tell Jan I loved him and I said I would be back. I couldn't talk. I was sobbing so much that I couldn't take a breath. It was odd. There was almost complete silence nearby, I was crying noiselessly but when I tried to talk to her some strange and very loud sound mixed with a sob came out from my mouth. I remember me thinking that it had to seem quite funny for the people around. However I didn't hear anyone laughing which made the whole situation even more tragic for me.

I remember I wouldn't mind my plane to crash. However I was worried about the people that were aboard with me. I saw the EP from the plane. I felt relatively safe. There was no one sitting next to me, and the third sit in the row was taken by young, handsome, elegant Flemish guy. He was discrete. I was perceiving him as a wall separating me from the others. I couldn't stop crying. I turned my face toward the window and allow myself to do it from time to time. I remember the flight attendant. She was like good auntie, I remember the real concern in her eyes and her authentic smile. When I refused to eat she asked me if I'm sure with that smile look.

Waiting for the luggage on Warsaw airport I realized I didn't cry anymore. I was wondering why it suddenly stopped. It was 10:00 am, I woke up at 4:00 am, I thought that maybe I cried everything that was to cry. But the other scenario seemed more likely to me. I simply found myself in very hostile environment called Poland and I unconsciously knew I have to be brave to survive. It was almost like animal instinct.

My journey from Warsaw to Toruń was terrible with that big suitcase of mine. Warsaw, capital city, and there are nowhere any elevators or escalators. Only by that one can easily and painfully realize he's not in Belgium anymore.

I mentioned the song in taxi earlier. In the intercity train that I took I could find the annual magazine and that particular edition it was about Belgium. Everything seemed to be against me. I called Marta, the message I left on her voicemail was in English. I had no intentions to speak Polish again in this sad country. It's sad indeed. I had change of trains. The railway station I changed the trains at beared no resemblance to the Belgium or German ones. It was dirty, ugly, ruined. And above that ruin there was a sign that the renovation of it was founded by EU. What renovation? One could take it as grotesque joke if not the fact that he is condemned to live here. Such perspective eliminates all humor of it.

The journey was long because Polish trains are slow. I arrived to Toruń at 4:00 pm. When I took a cap I felt like tourist and I felt still rich. Everything was strange to me. I've met three people I know on my way to hall. I didn't want that, I couldn't deal with them, I was wreck.

My agonia has begun.