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.