Polish Drunk: A stereotype or true depiction

Drunk driving is a huge social problem that wreaks havoc on many of our roads regardless of where they are situated. But what about ‘drunk riding’? You ask, what is ‘drunk riding’? If you speak Polish read this article to find out (http://m.lublin.gazeta.pl/lublin/1,106513,9608923,Pijani_rowerzysci_zmora_sciezki_rowerowej_nad_zalewem.html ).

To summarise for my English speaking friends, the article talks about an incident that occurred in Lublin in one of the city’s recreational parks. On a busy Saturday evening, in a park with special paths designated for bicycle riders, an incident took place. You see a man blindingly drunk was riding a bicycle and fell over, creating problems for many of the path's users. The man was so drunk that he could not stand up, let alone get back on the bicycle. One of the ladies  passing by told him that he shouldn’t be riding under the influence, he responded by saying “Can’t you see I can’t walk!”.

Another passer-by seeing this incident called the police, and was told that the police can’t do anything until there is a serious incident. The police directed the passer-by to a local community watch who once again told the person that he can’t stop moving vehicles, let alone breath test their occupants.  Discussion followed about who should take responsibility for managing these types of incidents as they have been occurring quite often in the recreational park.

On one hand I found this story quite frivolous and amusing, yet underneath it all this story underlies a very serious issue that affects Polish culture—the issue of excessive alcohol consumption.

Alcohol is present in most of the developed and even developing countries. Since Biblical times people have been consuming alcohol and it’s derivatives, but I don’t think alcohol has caused so much social harm as it is causing today.

In Australia we see the social harm that has been caused by alcohol such as violence, risky-youth behaviours, family dysfunctions and more.  Yet overall drinking and alcohol is largely glamourized, while at the same time, kept at bay. Australian government has put a lot of effort into ensuring that the sale of alcohol and the social harm is minimised. Government’s efforts such as stringent advertising laws, appropriate age restrictions, relatively high alcohol taxes as well as the well-targeted educational advertising have kept alcohol and it’s harms at manageable level.

In Poland, alcohol and it’s consumption is a totally different story.

Many-a-time foreigners have stereotyped Polish people as drunks, and while for some it may be highly offensive and untrue, this generalisation is largely correct. In my two months here I have seen how alcohol is wreaking havoc in the name of Polish culture. There are many reasons for this, some are the result of economic conditions while others are ingrained in traditions, but overall they all reek with social dysfunction.

When I first arrived in Poland, beggars on the street kept asking me for 1zł (40c). I wondered why that was so, until I found out that in Poland beer can be cheaper than water and can be bought at any supermarket or corner store. Sometimes you can even find it among the shelves with other soft-drinks and energy drinks. I was staggered when I learnt this. How can the government allow alcohol to be so cheap, I questioned. I am yet to find out.

Since learning that alcohol is so cheap, whenever someone asks me for 1 złoty for supposed “food” or “medication”, I look at them questioningly. Yet some beggars don’t even hide the fact that they are begging for alcohol, some ask openly hoping that their honesty will be rewarded with a bit of money for their hit.

You see, for a lot of people in Poland, alcohol is their daily food. They drink from early in the morning till late at night, barely taking a break to sleep. For some it’s the only thing they do, or the only thing they know how to do.

Sometimes on my way to work I see a familiar beggar that keeps asking me for 1 zł for “medication”, the same beggar also asks me on my way from work. Further along the street I see old men stumbling along the path or sitting by the corner store drinking. There is a lot of broken bottles and glass littered all around that corner store. It must be a meeting spot for the community of drunks.

Catching a train or a tram can also be a challenge at times. Sitting on a train minding my own business often I can’t help but be overwhelmed by the stench of alcohol and urine that wafts over from neighbouring seats where an intoxicated individual is barely sitting upright. It’s ok if the trip is short, but try sitting there for half an hour—it’s a tough job trying not to vomit.

But then on the other hand, I feel sorry for these people (I’m one of the very few that does), because their situation is largely the outcome of their surroundings and traditions.

Surrounded by alcohol and alcohol advertising from early age, they have become conditioned to view drinking as part of the social norm. All around, advertising on television, in the radio, on billboards all proclaim alcohol to bring happiness, social acceptance and glamorous life. Furthermore the tradition of celebrating every little thing, from bearing a son to finishing work on time, with a “nalewka” (or shot) of hard spirits keeps breeding new generations of people that have grown up with drinking. To break away from these traditions and culture is like cutting an umbilical cord.  

In my two months here, seeing what part alcohol plays in society and what it does to people I have started to see it as more and more disgusting. In Australia, I’ve held a bit of a naïve view that alcohol may have its benefits in that it relaxes people and allows them to be “themselves but more fun”. But seeing what alcohol really does has opened my eyes. I don’t think that I will ever see it as glamorous, again. I have seen how it degrades people and how under the mask of “confidence” if offers “fun”, yet brings embarrassment, head-aches and destruction of the soul.
 

Crazy Polish Families: Dynamics of Polish Families

The same weekend that I went to Wisła (Vistula), I also got a chance to visit my aunt near Bielsko-Biała. It was good to see my aunt after 3 years and she was really excited about seeing me as well. She kept fussing around me, making sure that I wasn’t hungry, or cold and that I was looking after myself—she was behaving pretty much like any good polish mum’s would.

As I spent time there, I realised that Polish families are quite different to those from other countries—including Australia. Many people when they come across Polish families find family dynamics very overwhelming, and some even can’t handle them.

I remember a time when I brought home an Aussie boyfriend. When he met my family and realised how involved they are in my life, he found it a bit frightening and so he tried to distance himself but in the end that was the relationships main pitfall. I know that I’m not the only one who’s struggled introducing their Aussie boyfriend/girlfriend to our Polish family. Other people in my family have also experienced the gulf that exists between family dynamics in Australian culture and that of Polish culture.

So what is so different about Polish families? The explanations are endless and may probably vary from family-to-family and may change as people acclimatise themselves with their acquitted culture, but for me the difference that I have seen is the involvement of Polish families in the lives of their children as well as in the lives of relatives outside of the immediate family.

You see, often you’ll find children that have grown-up still living with their parents and living under their parents “rule”.  Sometimes—although it is less common now-a-days—you may even find several generations living together under the directive of the “head of the family” or the main bread-winner.

These people do not simply share their residence but in effect also share their resources (food, money, appliances, etc.), lives and sometimes decision outcomes. So as you can see, there is no room for “privacy”, but the need for collaboration, reliance and interaction rules within the family unit. This is quite different from Australian culture which tends to push “the young” from the nest as soon as they are old enough.

I believe that Polish family dynamics are largely dictated by the past. After World War and during Communism people did not have the financial resources, security, stablity nor the ability to buy or rent a house and move away. So, as a result, families kept living together, saving resources and contributing towards the creation of this type of family dynamic.   

In those days, the only way for a person to acquire a place of their own was to marry or to have a property passed down through the family. And so people lived with their parents until such time as they found a husband or their family’s property was passed down to them.  

Even in my own family, my dad received his house from his father while his two sisters had to marry to secure a future for themselves. Once they married their husbands and their families became responsible for providing for them and their future families. I guess, as a side note, this is also the reason why during the time that my parents were growing up there was so much pressure on finding a life partner. As it meant stability, support and foundation for the rest of their lives.

As I spoke to my aunty during my visit, she told me that her dad and another person from church helped to set her up with her husband. Her dad considered her husband’s family and thought that since they were a well to do Christian family, they would be worth having in the family. So in the end, my aunties feelings towards my uncle became only a formality needed for the marriage to proceed.

Today life looks slightly different, young people in Poland have more opportunities and choices. They have the financial stability to be able to study, work and live anywhere they like and therefore many of them move out of home earlier and begin independent lives. Over time, I believe, this will change the family dynamics of relations. But for the time being the closeness and collective nature of families continues to be strongly felt and continues to, on one hand, frustrate people like me, but on the other hand, provide a caring and loving environment which provides stability and support within families. It would be sad to lose this aspect of family as culture changes.  

In a way, over the last four years I have strayed from the traditional “Polish family” environment. I have been living an independent life away from my parents and siblings. Living in Sydney, over 1500km away from my closest family (now even further), I’ve become accustomed to privacy and ability to make my own decisions and choices.

It was an interesting experience visiting my aunty who still thinks in the “traditional Polish family” style. At times I felt frustrated that at 26 I’m still being told what to do and how to do it. I also felt frustrated that finding a husband is expected to be my “priority”.

Now, as I reflect on all of this, I realise that my aunt was not being spiteful or deliberately frustrating, but she was acting in a way that has been ingrained in her through the environment that she has grown up in. I can’t blame her and I can’t expect her to change, all I can do is understand the differences, respect them and meet her half way.

Blast from the Past

It’s been almost a month since I wrote last. But that was before all the craziness started. In the next few posts I hope to share with you about the many things that I have been doing. I have been on the go for the last 5 weeks and even though I have really been enjoying myself, I realised that I need some “down time” to regenerate, relax and reflect.

On Thursday, just over three weekends ago, my boss announced to me that we would be leaving the following day to drive to a place called Wisła where we would be presenting about our organisation.

Wisła (or Vistula) is a place in the polish mountains where the main river—which cuts Poland in half--originates. It is an amazing place situated in a valley with high mountains towering over the small township of 12,000 residents (and many more tourists). During summer Wisła is an ideal place for mountaineers as well as Nordic walkers as there are a number of mountain trails that can be climbed and walking tracks that can be explored. In winter, however, it turns into a winter wonderland as the mountains become covered with amazing white powder that provides an ideal setting for a great skiing experience. There are a number of slopes for all type of skiers, ski jumps as well as other adventure activities for the more adventurous souls. Furthermore, if lucky, while visiting Wisła, you may come across the Olympic Ski Jump Silver-medallist, Adam Małysz, as this is his home-town.

But despite all these amazing things about Wisła, Wisła holds a special sentimental value for me as it is a place where I spent my holidays as a 9 and 10 year old, as well as being a place where I fell in ‘love’ for the first time.

When I was little (smaller than I am now), my sister Ula and I got to go to a “junior camp”. It was the most exciting thing for both of us, as it was the first time that we went away without our parents. We were really excited but also really anxious. At first after our parents left, my sister Ula got a little upset but as soon as we met other kids our worries melted away and we quickly made new friends and joined in in the fun and games.

During the first year at the camp, I took everything in slowly as I wanted to get to know how the camp worked. But the first thing that I noticed was that all the girls were not playing with boys like I was used to, there was no climbing trees and the like, instead they were trying to draw attention to themselves and constantly sending their friends to talk to the boy they “liked” or the boy that was their “boyfriend”. I really didn’t pay attention to that, the boy I liked at that stage (I was 9) was about 14 and was “going-out” with another girl so I got on with trying to make it up the 4 different mountains that the leaders took us to.

Now that I reflect, I understand why we did so much mountain climbing, the leaders were trying to tire us out so that we wouldn’t bother them at night—and let me tell you, it worked! But even though we were exhausted by the end of the camp, it was one of the more memorable events in my life. The next year, however, became more memorable because at that camp I met my first “boyfriend” (It’s in inverted commas because I was 10 for goodness sake!).  

Ok, so that year we got to camp—my sister and I were lucky enough to bring our brother along even though he was too young. I remember it being a big deal because our parents had to cut a deal with the organisers to allow Jonasz to come, but eventually Jonasz was able to come.

As soon as we got to camp all the gossip and the girliness from the previous year begun.  As I got into the room with all the girls, I was flooded with questions about who I knew from the previous year, if I had a boyfriend and if I liked any boys that were there. I remember them telling me about how this one boy, that was at camp the previous year, said that he liked me. And that’s pretty much how I started “going out” with Marcin.

My relationship with Marcin exhibited itself in that we spoke to each other, we sat next to each other on the bus and on chair lifts, Marcin carrying my bag when we went mountain climbing and Marcin dragging my brother up mountains when Jonasz could not go any further (Jonasz was 5 at that time).

When I think back, I smile and laugh. For me at 10, that was the happiest I’ve ever been. The most popular guy at camp liked me, all the girls wanted to be me and all the boys wanted to go out with me while I was just having fun enjoying the camp. A perfect scenario. A scenario that many-a-time I wished would repeat itself.

Unfortunately we cannot stop time, go back to the fond times in our life. At some point we have to grow up, face reality and move on. For me, the point of growing up came the day that our family moved to Australia.

In my previous post, I spoke about how difficult it was to learn a new language, to leave the language and culture that I knew and to begin everything anew. And I must say, that was hard! But what was even harder was becoming a translator for my family at 11 years of age as this not only meant that I had to do things that I didn’t like, but it also meant that I had to grow up. As I now look back, I realise that I was not ready to grow up just yet.

When I became a translator for my family, I learnt many valuable lessons. Lessons on how to negotiate so that I could get a good deal when buying whitegoods, electrical appliances, a car or even negotiating accommodation, how to deal with Centerlink and local government when they are trying to “screw you over”, how to pay bills and even how to translate peculiar medical terms.

All these were valuable lessons which on one hand I’m glad I’ve learnt but on the other hand I feel that learning them so young forced me grow up too early. I didn’t get eased into responsibility like everyone else, I had to take it on and run with it.

I guess that’s why generally when you ask someone what they think of me they will say “quiet, responsible and organised” but you’ll seldomn hear “fun, spontaneous, risk-taking”. I have had to be “responsible” for so long that I lost the fun-loving, adventurous, energetic kid that I once was. A kid who, as my mum describes, would have so much energy that I would make up for both myself and my sister combined.

As I visited Wisła three weeks ago, and looked out of the same window of the “holiday retreat”, ate in the same dining room and walked in the same corridors as 16 years ago while vacationing there with my brother and sister,  I thought about the fun-loving person that I was, about the responsible person that I am now and about the type of person that I want to become.

Sixteen years ago I would not have imagined that the events of my life would shape me to become the person that I am today and that I would change so much. And, today I probably can’t imagine what I will be like in the future. But at whatever stage of my life I am, I need to be happy with who I am now. Because there’s no point in dwelling on the past, or trying to look toward the future, because life is lived in the present.

Language Barrier

Ever since coming to Australia at the beginning of 1996, I have always seen English as foreign to me. I clearly remember my first day at Elermore Vale Primary School where I had to say “I don't know how to speak English” to people so that they wouldn't think I was strange when I didn't answer them because I didn't understand what they were saying to me. I also remember going to a shop wanting to buy eggs for my aunt and coming back with the wrong change because I didn't know how to tell the man that he didn't give me enough, and then getting in trouble for it. Even today I keep being teased because of my accent or for pronouncing a word with the wrong intonation, like the time when my boss at work thought I said “A freaking child” instead of “African child”. The situation was funny, and I laugh at it, but in my mind situations like these kept reinforcing that English was foreign to me.

My early experiences with English have played a huge part in helping to mould me into the type of person that I am. When I first came to Australia, I felt that most of my experiences with English were negative. I felt that every time that I would open my mouth I would either say the wrong thing or would keep being corrected. I would try to avoid it by simply listening to people in conversations instead of participating. Even to this very day I feel that when I'm in a group I'm too self-conscious to talk or to make conversation for the fear of people making fun of me.

And now, 15 years later, I feel exactly the same.

My native language, the language that I once felt comfortable with, has now become foreign to me. I've always seen Polish language as central to where I am from and who I am, yet over the last few weeks I have struggled to come to terms with the fact that English has now replaced the role that Polish has played in shaping my identity.

I now no longer think in Polish but in English, I structure my sentences in English, my unconscious response is to answer in English, I do everything in English so now having to speak Polish all the time is an effort and a source of many frustrations. My sentences no longer sound right, I can no longer find the right words, and I no longer use words that are current. Like yesterday for example, I used the word “frajda” which meant “something fun” when I lived in Poland but as I was informed by my cousins that word hasn't been used for over 10 years and so I just look old-school using it. Instead I need to use the word “bajer”, which means the same thing but is “way cooler”.

For me this element of acclimatisation has been difficult, it has also been frustrating having people correct me all the time. In Australia I have been the one correcting people, checking spelling, grammar and so forth, while now others are doing it to me but on a larger scale. I feel like a kid again. I feel like once again I need to learn how to read and write, which for me professionally and personally is a bit condescending, but I'm trying to get used to it and learn as much as I can so that I can learn as soon as possible.

I am determined to learn Polish again as soon as possible so that I can once again feel like I can speak my language. My aim is to read as much as possible so that I can start to pick things up, so that I can express myself, so that I can do more than just listen and so that people can stop correcting me every time I speak or write. I want to regain my self-confidence which is being eroded by feelings of inadequacy.

Wish me luck!

Religious Poverty

So another week has gone again. Each week I vow to write more than once but each day something comes up and steals my time away. The last couple of days have been quite hectic after work. I have been helping out Irena, the lady that I live with. But before I tell you what I have been doing I have to give you a bit of a background.

You see Poland is a highly religious country. Majority of it's citizens (90% or so) are proclaimed Catholics. Some may be highly devoted Catholics and go to church several times a week and others are just religious in that they go to church during holidays. Majority of Polish people however are the former.

Nevertheless regardless of whether a person is devout or not, the church and clergy play a major part in people's lives. From early on, Polish people are affected by church influences. Soon after they are born they go to church to be Christened, then their First Communion, then to get married, then to be buried at their local cemetery and lastly, but most importantly, to avoid purgatory. But these major events are just an overview of the amount of time and effort that people go to to make sure that they are right with the church and that they are accepted by their community.

The Catholic community is something that also plays a huge role in social interactions in Poland. Since Catholicism is such a prolific religion, social interactions at church dictate social interactions outside. Therefore in many cases strong religious discrimination occurs towards people that are anything but Catholic as they are considered to be a minority. This often results in exclusion, ridicule, and overall ostracism. In a way when I look at the situation here in Poland I am saddened and feel sorry for the people as many of them they act out of social pressure created by their religion rather than their free will. The following story illustrates this.

My land-lady gave a religious book to a lady she met at a food distribution centre for the disadvantaged. The book she gave out was a book produced by the Seventh-day Adventist Church (an Ellen G. White book). The lady read the book and thought that it had some very interesting points and wanted to know more. However, wanting to make sure that the book was ok with her religious leader she asked her priest about it. The priest hearing that it was a book produced by the Seventh-day Adventist church told the lady that Adventists were some kind of a sect and not to get influenced by them. The lady not wanting to be ostracised by her community told my land-lady that she was no longer interested.

I felt very sorry for this lady. I felt sorry that she relinquished her freedom to search for the truth herself, that she didn't want to exercise her right of free will, and that she might never get to know a God of love but will continue to think that God is a God that's just waiting to punish her and let her suffer in purgatory.

The issue of purgatory is another interesting topic associated with the Catholic religion. In Catholicism people seem to be constantly working to make sure that they don't suffer after their death. They continue to do their “Hail Mary's”, pay their penances, participate in many traditions and festivals just to avoid the suffering that they believe God is waiting to inflict on them. As a result they continue to live in fear while continuing to line the pockets of their religious leaders. Many times I have heard people say that there's no better way to control people and make money than through religious propaganda, and over the last few weeks I have seen how this works. Take this story for example.

There was a lady whose husband had died. They were both Catholic and so she wanted him to be buried at their local parish. So she made arrangements with the priests who told her that everyone in her family had to go to confession so that the husband could be buried. During confession the priest told each member of the family that they had to pay a substantial amount of money to make sure that the amount of time the deceased spent in purgatory could be shortened. So this lady and her family were now not only faced with grief from their loss but now were also faced with having to pay penance, something that they could not afford.

Anyway, these stories are the things that have not only stirred my curiosity but have also motivated me to take Irena's invitation when she asked me to help her hire-out religious literature produced by the Seventh-day Adventist church. And I'm so glad that I took the opportunity. I strongly believe that people have the right to be given opportunities to choose for themselves, to learn and to decide what they want to do with their life and so I was happy to participate in a bit of “literature evangelism”. But this experience was also an amazing experience because learnt a lot about the state of poverty in Poland.

The place where I had to go to hire-out the books and where food was being distributed from was this really run-down apartment situated on the bottom-floor of a seven-story building. It was situated down an alley-way which was dirty, abandoned and creepy. Yet people were lining up by the door to get their food rations. These people didn't care about the state of the place, all they cared about was that they would be fed for the next month.

I was amazed at the types of people that came. There were pregnant women, mothers and fathers with children as well as the elderly. There were people whose clothes looked warn down while others were dressed in their best vest-and-tie combinations. There were all types of people from all walks of life.

A few interesting people esspecially caught my attention. There was this one elderly gentleman that was dress nicely in a shirt, tie and a matching vest. When I offered him a book he told me that he had lots of books and that he loves to read. I was impressed by everything about this gentleman, his clothes, his manners, his education, his attitude, his passion for life. I wondered what he was doing at a place like this. It was later on that I learnt that this gentleman used to be a well known journalist in Wrocław but lost his job and could not get another one due to his age (he is close to retirement). It was then that I saw how poverty can strip person's dignity and how unpredictable life is.

Then there was another woman that came to the distribution centre. When she came to collect her rations she could barely stand. I wondered why that may be, in Poland when person can not stand it's usually because of alcohol and so I automatically thought that she's either drunk or sick. But I was wrong, this lady was suffering from what my mum, Eva and I suffer from, and that is low blood-pressure. I learnt that I shouldn't judge a book by it's cover but to reserve my judgement, something that I think many of us struggle with.

It was nice though to be reminded of my family. I was also reminded of my family when a family of six came to collect their rations and I thought of the the time that my family had to go to a distribution centre, probably similar to the one that I was sitting in, to collect blankets that Caritas was distributing.

I never talk about it but my family was not always as well of us we are now—not to say that we are very well off, but we do ok. I remember a time when it was very tough for my family. When I would hardly see my dad because he was working 2 full-time jobs to provide for us while at the same time trying to look after our farm. Sometime dad would also go to Germany to where my aunt lived to make some extra money there. He would work for a week or so illegally but the amount of money he made there was quite a bit bigger than when he worked in Poland.

My parents would also always think of creative ways of making a little bit extra money for the family to live on. During summer we would pick plums from our plum trees in the orchard and sell them at a popular tourist spot. At other times my parents would go to the flour-mill and grind our wheat to make flour. Life back then was interesting but also hard. How hard? I don't think that I will ever know, but what I do know is that I have a weak-spot for people that are facing similar situation.

When I was sitting at the distribution centre I kept fighting tears, which was a bit strange for me since I try never to cry, but in this situation seeing people who are facing such dire circumstances brought back memories. The emotions that flowed as a result were so pure and so heart-felt that I was surprised at myself. I felt like for the first time I was honest with myself. This truly was an amazing and enlightening experience for me.

Polish Work Culture

So it's almost two weeks since I've come to Wrocław and started working.

Since arriving I have slowly started to get into a routine and life seems to have gone back to “normal”. You see, my day looks like this, I get up to the sound of my alarm clock (the Avondale-branded-one that I brought with me from Australia), I get up get dressed and have breakfast and then walk to work. I work all day and then walk home for a relaxing night at home where I have the options of reading (currently reading Jane Austen's Northanger's Abbey in Polish), watching tv, going out or simply sleeping.

In a way I'm finding comfort in this somewhat-boring routine because although I'm in a totally different country and although most of the things that I come across on my day-to-day encounters are so different and so foreign, I still fall into my predictable patterns of behaviour that make me feel like in a way nothing has changed. But in fact a lot has changed...

Take 'work' for example. As my friend has wisely noticed, people in Australia “Work to Live” while people in Poland “Live to Work”. Life in Poland is centred around work—the lack of it and the striving to retain it. During the last few days I've had the chance to observe a number of people and their attitudes.

The fear of not having a job influences the attitudes that many people. Young people study hard to ensure that upon the completion of their studies they will be competitive in the workforce and that they will get a job. Yet many, once they finish tertiary education, struggle to find employment due to their lack of experience, lack of positions in the job market and the number of competitors for the same position. With unemployment rates of 20% in some areas, there is definitely no shortage of people who want to work.

Those that manage to find employment, once in their place of work, do everything to make sure that they don't lose their position and that they do not provide their employer with reasons for dismissal. This sometimes means compromise on working conditions as well as unrealistic commitments towards work.

For me this has been a bit of a struggle. I'm used to the hour-long breaks for lunch where my team and I would go out of the office to eat and get to know each other. As well as the 15minute coffee- and afternoon-tea breaks where we could drag our eyes away from the computer and just relax. So for me to have half-an-hour break during an eight-hour day where no-one goes anywhere and where everyone eats their lunch at their desk (not even tearing themselves away from their work) is a bit of a change.

I also found that people's attitude towards “personal” as opposed to “work” time is also very strict. In Australia, I found management and employees to be more understanding when it comes to having to make a personal call or send a personal email. Here, in my opinion, people don't engage in any activity of a personal nature during work time for the fear that they may be reprimanded for it, which could ultimately affect their employment. And employers of course, wanting to get the most out of their employees, make sure that people do not take more than their legal share of “personal time”.

In a way I can see how firms may think that this is more beneficial to them, afterall they are getting their fair-share of “work time” out of the employees. But my question is, “Are they really getting their time?” Studies show that people need to take regular breaks for their brain to work at the best capacity, otherwise people become less efficient. Also, for me, social interactions at work are a motivating factor which encourages me to work for the benefit of fellow employees and the organisation.

Just last week, a friend from work shared a story with me which typifies the task-orientated mature of workplaces in Polish workforce. Every day a lady working for a government agency would pull-out a pile of paper notes which she had to write up on the computer. She had a certain number of notes to do during the day. If she happened to get through them too quickly, she would simply delete the work and start again so that when the boss came to give her another task she could honestly say that she didn't finish her current task. You see, I believe that if this lady had something to motivate her (other than money), she would have been able to do twice as much, but when there are no incentives, what's the use of trying harder than you have to.

But then there is also the fact that over the many year where this has been happening, Polish people have come to know this type of work environment as normal and typical and can no longer comprehend or feel comfortable in any other work environment.

As I was talking to a friend at work about the amount of paper-work that our local people have to fill out, I mentioned that it is easier for people to get used to less paper-work than try to teach them to follow new controls and rules. Yet I was surprised when my friend said “In Poland it doesn't work that way. People thrive in beaurocracy. They don't know how to live without it, and in the absence of it they create their own. I find it interesting how the work culture first enforced by the autorities has now transcended that it no longer needs to be enforced but has become intrinsic to the work culture.

Anyways, I'm sorry if I have bored you with my reflections. As I read through them I figured that I could probably submit this as an essay for an “Occupational Behaviour” subject. LOL. Sorry. I just find this quite interesting. At uni they told us that we should never stop learning...I guess they have managed to indoctrinate me with that theory. LOL.

I'm hoping to write some more later on this week as well as to put up some photos of Wrocław town square. It is truly beautiful.

Arriving in Wrocław

After a few delays and changes to the original plan, I finally made my way to Wrocław on Tuesday afternoon. It took us 6 hours on the train to get here from Warsaw , but it was a comfortable ride and I had a good time picking my new boss' brain about the way that ADRA/ChSCh works in Poland.

I did not know what to expect when I arrived in Wrocław but one thing that I certainly was not expecting was the shock that I got when the realisation hit that I have moved here to stay (at least for the time being). And this realisation did not hit me until I walked into the apartment where I would be living.

"What have I done?" was my first thought. Don't get me wrong, I did not doubt whether i wanted this, it was just that up until then it still felt like a holiday.

It wasn't until I was being told, "And this will be your room, this is the kitchen and bathroom...", that I was like "What was I thinking?", but thankfully by that stage it was way too late to chicken out, like I sometimes do when things get too difficult.

Over the last few days I have slowly fallen into a routine, and am slowly getting used to everything. I'm slowly getting used to the tiny apartment that I and Irene, an elderly lady from church share on the 4th floor of one of the apartment comlex's (and when I say tiny, I mean tiny). The cold outside and the need to allocate 5 minutes just to get dressed before I leave the apartment each morning. The excessive walking that I'm doing, because the distance to work does not warrant spending the money on transport, yet does require that I leave 40 minutes before work starts. The walking and driving on the other side of the road and making sure that I look the right way so that I don't get run over. The need to say "Good day" to the shop owner as I enter each store (I quite like this one, although it requires me to be social even if I don't feel like it). The new workplace which is quite friendly, yet so unlike my work at ADRA Australia (I miss you ADRA Aust guys). And the constant need to speak and think in Polish (I'm slowly getting a handle on this as well).

So as you can see life here is quite different. But I seem to be enjoying it. The other day, I even got a surprise. It started SNOWING!!

It's been over 15 years since I saw real snow falling from the sky--not just lumps of slush like at Thredbow. So I'm sure you can imagine my excitement. It was beautiful. The night had just fallen, the street lights were lightly illuminating the falling snow, the traffic had died down while I was warm inside looking out from my 4th story window at the world below me. I must say, it's was a picturesque moment. If I could, I would take a picture and ingrain it in my memory. But pictures never look as beautiful as they are in real life. So I just have to enjoy the moments while they last.

And it is moments like these that remind me why I wanted to come and visit the country of my birth.