European Day of Languages

What the picture story tells about happens to linguists all the time. People don't know what being linguist means, what linguists do. They believe linguists are polyglots - people who speak many languages. That's why once they realize you hardly speak any foreign language and you're linguist they assume you have to be very bad at your job. When they're referring to people who speak many languages they speak about them as professional in languages. It's wrong of course, if not then the chief of my institute should be replaced by a guide-guy from the boat from Brugge who has spoken five or six languages, if I'm recalling it correctly. The fact that he spoke them doesn't mean he knew anything about any of them nor about language in general. Think how much you know about your language. Is it synthetic or analytic language? Agglutinative or fusional? Flectional or isolating? What consequences does it all bring?

Linguist is not someone who speak many languages (polyglot) but someone who have knowledge and skills to be able to analyze any language. It's someone who investigates languages and discovers and explains its complexity, not someone who would memorize lexicon and grammar rules. Moreover, he's supposed to be incomparably better than native speaker, not in using language but in explaining issues related to it. Why one makes errors or a scene instead of doing it? Why one makes notes but does research? What is the difference between expression from time to time and every now and then. Answering this kind of questions - that's what linguists are for. That's what linguists should be capable of.

Sometimes one of us has been asking the others which verb some noun selects while appearing in a sentence. There was no time for making analyzes of course but I was giving answer sometimes based on my linguistics intuition. It wasn't taken very seriously since I was the guy who speaks English badly but sometimes Channel (English native speaker) came to the office and confirmed my answer was the right one. I was satisfied with myself then. However, she was not able to explain why the selection goes the way it goes. No wonder, why would she? That's what linguists are for. When they meet language that they hardly speak or don't speak at all it takes some time and effort to answer this sort of questions but it's only a matter of time to give those answers.

One may wonder why I hardly speak any other language but Polish even though I'm linguist, especially that it's obviously much easier for linguists to learn foreign languages. What can I say? Memorizing stuff is not my thing since I'm dyslectic. Besides, how boring it is to memorize words and grammar rules? I'm too lazy for that. There are so many much more fascinating things to do. Analyzing things is one of them. It trains the mind too since you really have to use it conducting analyzes. Maybe if I had money I would force myself to learn languages by taking some language classes but I've never could afford it. And my first and practically the last contact with English was in high school. There is no comparison to people like Agnes, who attended college where English was lecture language, or Kathrin, who studied in Australia. I didn't feel bad though. I believe others did. I thought first it would affect my job performance but I found out very quickly it didn't. Did you ever hear Dalai Lama? His lexicon is extremely limited for someone who speaks English on daily basis for many years and it's not even that he makes grammar errors but he simply skips half of the verbs and still can be understood easily by others. Other example, Czesław Miłosz spent many years in USA but I was shocked by his terrible Slavic pronunciation while speaking English when I could hear him once. Does anyone care? But strangely they care when one of theirs colleagues' English is not fluent.

People reacted funny way on me speaking English. They were talking all the time about my low self-esteem. They were trying to convince me for some reason that I underestimate myself (my language skills included) but at the same time they were making jokes about badly speaking people. Is it really supposed to make fat people laugh to hear jokes on fat people? Maybe once or twice, or for a week or two weeks but for a few months every day? I believe everything stops being amusing when occurs too often. People were also assuring me my language skills were not so bad and wondering at the same time why someone whose English was very bad in their opinion (but still much better than mine in my opinion) can work in there.

Jan was especially funny on that matter. When he was trying to convince me that my English was not so bad, he was saying things like: We had already trainees who spoke even worse than you. What is the problem with simply saying: OK, I admit your English is not perfect but it's not really a problem, is it? I remember also less funny, quite unpleasant actually, situations... In Poland I never say: I know better, I'm specialist in the area. However, it was too difficult explaining things and deliberating on them in English so being in Brussels I was sometimes saying things like: You can trust me on that one, I'm linguist. This kind of self-confidence was apparently making those people upset. Once someone told me as answer: Yeah, you are a linguist and you can't even... and made a pause. It was funny with those people, they needed only a little push to express what they really think. But if they were saying something else than they were really thinking the question is why were they doing it? Where does that need to making other people blind come from? Why to make them feel good about themselves even though they have no reason too. I've never fully understand that. Maybe they believed saying the truth would make those people miserable and they couldn't stand being someone miserable. Or maybe they were afraid that by saying the truth they will look miserable since they will present their self-confidence. And that's something one is not supposed to do as I've written already few entries below. The motto: United in uniformity, stays in motion.

I don't blame those people. They don't need to know what linguist is. They also may trying to comfort other people even if there is no need to and even if it's faked if that's their wish. However, taking someone as incompetent because of their own lack of knowledge is ignorance, isn't it? I can be taken as incompetent because of my incompetence but I don't want to be taken as such because of their incompetence. And that's why that matter catches my attention at first place. The problem is others' beliefs about you affect your life. They think badly about you they will give bad opinion on you. I don't care what other people think about me however without good opinion you will not get good job or any job at all and you're fucked up. Hilarious, isn't it?

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. ;-)

Dalai Lama in European Parliament

Dalai Lama visited European Parliament on 04-th of December 2008.







I like the speech very much because His Holiness was talking about values that Jan believes in.

The first axiom - everyone wants happy life and has right to achieve happiness. I'm not sure I share this belief. I mean I have other priorities. Jan, however, is seeking for happy life very persistently even if not always effectually. I'm afraid it may happen he'll never reach his goal. But considering the circumstances I can not do much to get it closer to him.

The second axiom that His Holiness and Jan share - inner values which are necessary base for achieving peace of mind which leads to happiness do not necessary have source in religion.

I'm glad His Holiness pointed out those two. I wonder if Jan is aware of it. Maybe it would please him a bit.

Swedish, Silesian, Czech, Hungarian, Australian, Finish... everywhere around

I was watching a lot of Czech movies when I came back. As I've said, I had desire for everything that has anything to do with Czech Republic. When there was railway catastrophe of Polish train in Czech I had impression I caused it by too much thinking about that country, too much negative thinking as well. The movie I recommend you especially is not Czech however, it's Danish, although it's about Czech Republic, about Prague (and it's called "Prague", directed by Ole Christian Madsen). Jan comes from Prague. It contains gay motive as well which makes it even more connected to Jan. But I don't recommend it because of that connection. I do because it's quite good, interesting movie. It's about everlasting love that has pity consequences for others, that hurts people involved. It's about death of old love and birth of a new one, about loneliness, finding way leading to others, finding the purpose, trying to understand ourselves, seeking for a goal... Subjects old but still fresh and pleasing if shown in interesting way. But it's also about beautiful city which is contaminated with postcommunist heritage and full of customs that have to seem very exotic for outsiders.

Czech and Scandinavian cinematography is well known for its quality but both are very different. It's interesting to see mix of those differences. And I want to warn you not to watch the trailer. It's very misleading, it announce the romantic story which the movie is not at all.


I watched another Czech movie few days ago - "The Country Teacher" by Bohdan Sláma. I'm not sure how comprehensible it may be for western Europeans but for me, as eastern one, it's very true, very close to life. That's something rare in the cinema and ironically that's something that cinema is all about - to portrait life possibly accurately even if it contains poetic scenes like the one on the balcony which is, by the way, ended with very interesting from formal point of view transition to the next one.


The movie brought Hana on my mind, surprisingly Jan less. What unvaryingly reminds me of him is Tibet and Tibetan issues. I will explain one day why.

I remember the things related to Tibetan issue occurred with great intensity at that time because of Olympic Games taking place in Peking then. Review of Buddhist movies, the Dalai Lama visit in European Parliament and so on. I made use of Tibetan wallpaper and I didn't take it off of my computer so far. It brings Jan on my mind not less than any Czech matter.


I've got also another wallpaper for you:


The European Parliament is in the left upper corner.

Suddenly I started noticed everywhere not only Tibetan and Czech matters but also the ones related to Hungary, Sweden, Finland, Silesia (the region where Marta comes from), Australia which Kathrin is more crazy about than me about Germany and that's why I associate Australia with Kathrin much more than her homeland, Germany.

It's utill today like that, less intensive but still. Connections all around. I watched for the nth time "Star Trek First Contact" few days ago. Let me show you fragment of it. Girls will understand what it is all about. ;-)



As I said, I encounter those associations everywhere. Those are small things sometimes. Like expression hearing somewhere which meaning Kathrin explained me once. The whole situation is recalling then... One asks themselves in situation like that – Do those things occur to me more frequently or frequency didn't change but my attitude did and I notice them more easily.

What was interesting there were moments that I started to miss my German friends, the ones I've met 6 years ago, even more than the Belgian ones. Especially Birgit, my wonderful, wise Birgit who taught me so much. The rules of love influence your memory. When you experience strong feelings to group of people you develop feelings to the others as well. Old true, isn't it?

Live long and prosper!

Jaana

As written in previous entry I gave one of Rothko's reproduction poster to Jaana. The artist turned out to be one of her favorites. And she gave me once postcard presenting Klee's reproduction. She did it not knowing that he was my favorite one. Isn't it special?


Jaana. She wasn't in my team. She was in Kathrin's one – foreign affairs. She has sent me an invitation on Facebook once. I accepted, sent some short message. She replied with an e-mail, asked for having coffee together and it went by, it didn't go by smoothly though. I had my reservations. You know, she was an official... Besides it was already time when I generally was troubled with establishing relationships there, didn't want any. I was rather avoiding people, wanted to be left alone, became very unsocial those days. I had to deal with my problems (really serious ones) and couldn't manage someone who seemed to be disturbed themselves.

She was persistent though. She wasn't stopping to invite me to meet and assuring of her good will. We've met few times and I finally gave up and agreed to pay a visit at her place. It was impressing and overwhelming. I experienced many situations for the first time being in Brussels. It was one of it. I believe I have been never before in flat as huge as Jaana's. I remember I felt kind of awkward, uncomfortable, like being in place which I don't belong to. But on the other hand I felt welcomed and was interested in the place, willing to discover it, to accustom to it. Jaana was lovely, she was calling one of her rooms as mine, she wanted me to stay at her place after finishing my traineeship. The visit brought the poster of "Besieged" by Bertolucci on my mind. Those stairs... like in Jaana's place. Her flat was like having four floors...



The thing that made making friends particularly difficult in that environment was time, short time. I got used to have plenty of time so it was new experience for me to make friends in few meetings. But that's how the life looks like there.

I will definitely think of Jaana as my friend for the rest of my life. Even though it's very likely we won't meet ever again (which may seem to be contradictory). She wanted me to live at her place, she wanted me to visit her in Finland. But it was clear to me it won't happen. I'm poor polish guy. I don't have money to for trips like that. I went abroad twice and in both cases EU paid for it. It was the only possibility for me to make such journeys, to experience this kind of adventures. I couldn't even invite her to Poland since it cost too much to have guests, much too much for people like me. And you know, I didn't send letters since I came back depressed. Neither did her since she was busy. Then she's got some troubles herself... It made me worried...

It's difficult to make friends on distance and it's even more difficult with those people. Many of them don't even bother to try since they know that people they meet will probably be gone soon. Jan explained me once his attitude on this matter and I would call it consumerist one. Let's get together, let's have some fun but not get deeper. Getting involved would be waste of time and emotions. Commitments seem to be waste of sources, some kind of luxury to them. I can understand their point of view. It may be seen as pointless to make friends with people one doesn't intend to stay in touch with. And it's not possible to stay in touch since one is short timed. However, this line of thought leads to become lonely and unhappy eventually which is wrong too. Life can not be based only on temporarily things, human beings requires permanent basis to achieve psychological balance. They want people and at the same time they don't allow them to grow closer. The second contradiction in this entry. Let mi finish with it.

I bought book about Toruń for Jaana (as an invitation) but I've never send it.

What I've written here seems to be so meaningless. Even meaningful things become like that on paper (unless one is a writer of course). Besides it's difficult to write about something which you are not allowed to reveal really. I don't have problem with making everything public but that's me.

EU officials' art reception

Exhibition catalogue was not my only purchase from Strasbourg. I've bought also Mark Rothko's Taschen portfolio (collection of posters), Jimmy Paulette Taboo! In the bathroom by Nan Goldin on a postcard and an extra postcard for Jan.

I gave one of Rothko's reproductions to Jaana and placed other one in our office. I wonder if it's still there.

I have to admit I had hard time to give away the postcard that I bought for Jan. It was exceptional, really beautiful. I don't remember anymore what it showed exactly (some male nude) but I remember it was stunning. I regret now I gave it to him. Not that I'm so selfish and I would prefer to keep it for myself. It's just that giving it seems now to be profanation of art. He didn't mention it which indicates he probably didn't appreciate the artistic value of it. He was apparently not prepared to get it. Offering objects of art to the people who are not capable of or willing to appreciate it is always a great sin to me. And people who admire art are responsible for recognizing if someone has the sensibility to art. Isn't it like that? My fault then.

I bought also a postcard for myself as I already mentioned. I was bewitched by it. It was not only impressing but it was showing me. You see?

Nan Goldin Jimmy Paulette Taboo! In the bathroom (N.Y.C. 1991)

So feminine, so open, courageous, almost obstreperous, and having some desire (not necessarily sexual) for attractive guys. I placed it over my desk and ask my colleagues if they recognized me on that photo. No one did. Maybe I'm wrong but I believe most of my Polish friends would do, without any hesitation. It was funny when I asked Jan because he approached that photo to give it closer look. He apparently thought I meant it was really me, literally. ;-) Raphaelle was the only one who understood the idea of the guy on the photo being my counterpart. I liked it very much. French people, they have sensibility to art in their blood. :-) Generally that whole experience made me realized the distance between those people there and me, all the differences – of aspirations, needs, values... You know what Rothko once said when he was asked to decorate one of New York fancy restaurants with his paintings?

I don't think it's so simple, it's only about money but it's like that. However, I don't want you to keep impression that all people there are insensible to art, that they are some kind of savages when it comes to higher needs. It's not like that. But the general tendency exists and it would be hard to deny. Still, I've met there few people that were very open on art. Jaana for example was extremely sensible of art, she was simply made of various ideas, art ideas included. Agnes had some education in that area since her father was professional art critic. And Marta was an amateur artist herself, she painted beautiful scenes. Somehow I was still alone with all my artistic raptures. Fortunately I was not alone with my admiration to humane beauty, male beauty being more specific. ;-)

By the way, I had the pleasure to meet Michał vel. Czapel, polish guy (very important official) whose one of responsibilities was art in EP, art objects there. He told me some funny stories about receiving and and refusing art objects. Contrary to what he claimed that he didn't have much idea about the art I believe he was the right man for the job considering the selection and arrangement of art objects in EP is hardly disputable in my opinion. Go there, check yourself and let me know about your opinion. :-)

Jan's birthday A.D. 2009

It was the most important book because it was meant to be birthday gift for Jan. Didn't matter it was still 10 months to his birthday. I knew if I wouldn't buy it then I never would since my financial situation was supposed to worsen only day by day. And I knew exactly what I wanted to buy for him. The part of my surprise for his previous birthday was flowers. He showed great appreciation of everything I prepared for him then. He said about the flowers: "How did you know I love flowers?". Is there any gay who doesn't? Probably I'm the only one. ;-) He can be so kind sometimes. His appreciation was completely meaningless or exceptionally priceless considering it didn't occur this year. This year he didn't even bother to let me know if he got the gift. That's how those people are, many of them at least, with certain exceptions. Very nice, very kind but only because they believe they are supposed to be like that, because they have to deal with you on regular basis. Once you're gone there is no reason anymore to act like they've ever met you. Everything there is superficial, artificial. You go there with this cliché in your head and you try to find out it's other way, you try it really hard but the cliché comes out to be true. It goes along with the reality pretty well. Anyway, I don't give presents to get someone's appreciation. I give it to show my appreciation for that person existence.

Mapplethorpe's book was very symbolic and complex in its meaningfulnessity choice. As many gays (Jan including, as I've already mentioned, not me) Mapplethorpe loved flowers, it was one of his two favorite topics. The second one was human body which is one of my greatest fascinations. I found pleasing giving Jan something that he likes and I like too but both of us do because of other reasons. All those differences between us which kept us apart and made it impossible for us to go along with each other... There is always a way to get united in spite of them, even threw them, to find some connection. United in diversity.

Mapplethorpe was gay, probably the best gay photograph ever. The other good reason to buy his book. I had the impression Jan is interested in everything that has anything to do with gayness. The next reason - I learnt about this photographer during my traineeship, in Strasbourg. I came across one piece of his work in The Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Strasbourg. The photo stays in storage or maybe was lent during my visit. Anyway, it wasn't exhibited. I noticed it in the catalogue and was delighted. I regret now I didn't buy that catalogue. I've never found that photo anywhere else, I haven't managed to find it on the Web. It made such an impression on me. It's called "Dennis Walsh" and was taken in 1977. It shows naked, young, blond man lying on the car. It's marvelous, I loved it and hope to see it again one day, somewhere. I see it every time I close my eyes. Do I desire to meet Jan again more? Guess yourself.

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.