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?

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. ;-)

United in uniformity II

As I've written already in few entries I was suffering very much after my comeback. It was bizarre impression. Everything appeared strange and odd. There was some noise in my ears all the time. I was thinking English, didn't recognize people nor surroundings, I didn't see it properly. I was out of the reality, out of the space that surrounded me. I was in the state of permanent stupor.

I've met one of my former students once and differently from other meetings like that this one made impression on me. She was pregnant, her boyfriend accompanied her, she said "hello". I remembered her very well because she reminded me one of my greatest failures as lecturer. I had classes with third year students and lectured the last linguistic subject on their studies. It happened often that giving the final grade I was asking them which seminar they were going to choose: linguistic or literary one. She told me she was hoping to choose linguistic one however she has to reconsider because she felt stupid in the area after our classes. Is there anything worse than causing someone thinking badly about themselves? OK there are students which are not brilliant in specific field and that's OK for them to realize that, it's even desired. But she was one of the students that it would be hard to decide whether she's smart or not. She wasn't active, she made the impression she just didn't make much effort. I was trying to explain it was not my intention to make her thinking like that, to make her miserable but there is not much one can say after hearing this kind of assertion.

I was suffering so much that after meeting her my christian heritage made me to perceive the whole situation in the category of guilt. I made (unintentionally but still) bad thing and now I have to pay for it, I thought. Price seemed to be disproportionately high but if it would make her stop thinking badly about herself, if it undo the harm I've done than it was worth it.

It all makes me thinking about the conception of success and failure. Once I got matured I've never considered success and someone's approval as equivalent. Most of the people appear to regard them as such though. For me our accomplishments are our success, not what others think about them. Most of my successes are things that will stay hidden form others.

Every time I had a group of students that were completely non-talkative I was making a lot of effort to encourage, to provoke them to talk and finally it always happened at the end of the semester that they became more active. When I had similar situation with a particular student it was quite often the case they stopped being active at the beginning of their studies once they were criticized badly way by some unwise and insensitive lecturer. They were just afraid they would be humiliated again in front of the entire group once they make attempt. Every time my classes occurred to be new beginning for such people I felt fulfilled. Or when some students didn't pass the finale at first attempt but got the highest grade on retake... This kind of things I consider success. When my chief tells me I do brilliant job or lazy job with my students it doesn't tell me much about my performance but such things tell a lot. It shows I did good job indeed, I taught students well and made them to assimilate the knowledge effectively. For most of my colleagues this kind of things are completely beyond their interest. What interests them is to look good in front of their superiors. When students don't want to talk, they interrupt class and send them home, or change class into lecture, or make test as punishment... don't feel like making some real effort. And they don't know a thing about their students so there is no way to know if someone makes real progress and so on. What's important to them is what other say.

The attitude described above was present in EP on very large scale. It was astonishing for me. Success there is something fully related to others' opinions, depending on it completely. Others' approval - that's the concept of success. It leads to very strange behaviors and situations. According to that logic if you want to have success there (and it's desired for everyone) it's not enough to do your job well, it's not really important if you do such job. What's important is if others say you do well. So what you have to do is to make them saying that so you could then tell the others that they said you do fine. It's necessary because you are not allowed - the next rule - to say yourself you're good at something, it would be unacceptable. It would make other people upset or even angry. So to accomplish your goal you have to use various techniques to manipulate them, to provoke them to express positive assessment on your work. The simplest one is talking a lot about it, showing the results often and asking for feedback all the time, even if it's unnecessary and not useful. Normally feedbacks' function is allowing you to improve yourself, not in that case.

That's mostly it. One more thing maybe... It's not only that you're not allowed to express you being good in some fields, it's not acceptable to pointing out your flaws either. You're supposed to be ordinary and provoke others to talk about you as someone extraordinary.

Short review:

1) You are obliged to build your legend.
2) You are not allowed to say by yourself that you're good at something. Making any assessments about your own work based on results of it is not acceptable.
3) You are not allowed to talk about your flaws either.
4) You may and you're supposed to repeat after others that you're good at something.
5) In case to make them express positive review of your work you have to master techniques of manipulating and provoking them to do that.

Success is someone's approval. What can I say? I don't very much care and find it pathetic and dangerously deceptive. The sad thing is if you want to win anything you have to play those cards. That's how it usually works.

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.

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.

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.

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.