Why are Polish people coming to the UK – other reasons

I’ve just read on a forum that question re-asked by some English bloke. He’s being bashed about by forumers, as usually happens on forums. But I would like to throw my tuppence in.

One reason is that it’s easy to do so

- it’s a 2h flight, it costs 300-550 PLN (as much as a jacket or coat). In days gone now Poles would travel to the USA, which costs 2000 one way and takes much longer.

- the culture is European, so we are not afraid of not making it out alive.

- our schools had been teaching English for free for the past 18 years, so most people have the language structure, they only have to learn to understand spoken language

- it’s legal to do so. It’s a very important factor – there previously were some limited amounts of people who were illegal aliens abroad, but it’s not an easy life, so most people would never choose it. Nowadays, within Europe, everyone can more freely.

Then there are the economical reasons. Tony Blair had made a public invitation because the UK work market was starved. British job agencies came to Poland and set up HUGE trade fairs, paid for people’s tickets, work permits etc. We were incited to come by offering higher wages – for example instead of a 2000 PLN per month, the agencies offered 8000 PLN per month (a £26 000 salary) to doctors.

Then there is the will of people to go and have themselves a couple of years abroad. Travel is an educating experience.

And then there is that we are told by the media and the generation of 50 year olds that emigrating is the thing to do, it’s like fulfilling the highest hopes and touching God’s toes.

Which is a load of crap, but there we have it.

I see no other way to explain this myth that washing floors abroad is better than treating patients in Poland that to consider the Cold War propaganda. We were in opposition to the Soviet state because it was imposed on us, therefore we were a fertile ground for American military to spread anti-Soviet propaganda. Whatever is Soviet is EVIL – even if this monstrous regime had had some sane attempts, like building factories, nurturing countryside, building schools and apartments. Since America is in opposition to EVIL it has to be GOOD. WEST IS GOOD.

Older people still believe this nonsense and are happy to see their children taking this wondrous step and moving the life to the land of GOOD.

Then – it’s not so easy to come back.

First of all the expectation is that the land of GOOD is also RICH, so we can’;t come back poor. We are not able to make rich, because the WEST is not in fact RICH, just sugar-coated. It concentrates on LOOKING rich, and never mind about the back streets and poor health care.

The WEST also believes in the Cold War propaganda, which means that we are from the EAST, we are bad, worse, poor, and well… dodgy. We do not concentrate on appearing RICH, so apparently are not worthy of good jobs. We are hired as slave labour, with some exceptions.

Which means that unless we get westernised and start wearing glittery clothes (in fact bought cheaply at the GAP or HMS) we will not be able to meet conditions of going back EAST.

And here the circle closes. Once an emigrant – always an emigrant, because, much like in Madeira, people who come back must be generous to family and friends, build a house and have a big car, as any proper rich person must, as this is caring for other people. Without presents a rich man is resented as a scrooge.

I sometimes try to explain to random people, like my Mommy’s secretary, that the WEST is actually poverty-ridden, disrespectful, neglected and uneducated, as well as it’s relaxed, friendly, clean and charitable (I see both sides and I tell it). But it’s like hitting a wall. ‘But obviously you have it better’ is the only answer. Even though she knows that I had it good in Poland.

Nothing helps, and any random Westerner will be treated like visiting royalty, while Poles in the West are treated like visiting salesmen. Which is only logical – we come asking for a job.

So the only thing I can do to get out of this circle, is to work towards building a prosperous firm. A job can never make me rich enough here, to be seen as rich there. I have to pay half the living expenses and mortgage here, and build a large house there. And I have to listen to rude remarks while doing that – that I’m personally stealing a job of some English person who was more worthy of it (but they were not hired, understood?)

Polite Drivers

There is a general consensus in the world that we, the Poles, thereafter referred to as Poles vel. Polans, are drivers from hell. I proudly admit to all charges. But I would like to point out that horsemen from Kazakhstan are worse… Not that it changes much. There is also a second general consensus, otherwise referred to as ‘prejudice’, that British drivers are polite. That might sometimes be the truth, however, there are exceptions.
Exception one: car driver vs. a pedestrian. Pedestrian is an underprivileged person who lacks the protection of one tonne of sheet metal against the evils of modern life. Such underprivileged persons do not enjoy easy life – when walking on the pavement through a petrol station exit, they are usually chased up by freshly filled up cars. Sorry for them. Shouldn’t have been drinking, should have taken the car.
Exception two. Cars driving at the speed limit, instead of ten miles over it. I do that often. I am usually tail-chased by madmen, who are obviously not Polish, mind the PT Readers, as a proper Pole would have overtaken. Instead of overtaking the polite driver rushing behind me usually gets very close to speed me up, then flashes the long lights. But I do agree they are polite – no horn is used.
Exception three. Lane changing. Polite Britons are so expectant of polite letting them in that they change lanes without ever looking to the side, even if it’s dangerous to do so, and even if persons of inferior politeness might actually consider this as ‘rude pushing in’.
Exception four. Driving through roundabouts or crossroads. The exercise here is not to get to the other side in a safe and timely manner, but to let as many other cars through as possible. That involves stopping on the road with right of way, casing a congestion behind one’s car, flashing lights at one another to indicate who goes first, and occasionally bumping into one another, because the chaos was by then far too great to control.
All in all, my advice is to drive in a Polish fashion, fearlessly and without hesitation – otherwise other users of the road will start the ‘letting through procedure’ and come out of a country land straight under one’s nose.
Never use breaks, breaks are for the faint-hearted.

Now I’m off to my Sunday celebrations – with a hot chocolate pudding and some red.

A historian on Poles and Jews

The Disabling Mode: Poles in Jewish Discourse

British Police

Gotta love’em.

Someone told me the following story: some Polish people drove to the UK through the Chunnel by car. The cars were Polish as well. They came across their first roundabout in Britain, and went the wrong way around… just to see a police car. They got stopped, thought that this must be the end of the trip for them, they would spend the next ten years down for driving the wrong way on the roundabout.   Not so.

Coppers have actually gone into the car, shown them how to drive on the roundabout the proper way, and let them out without any fines.

The kids are still in shock.

But – there has to be the other side of the story. It seems that the society holds the fuzz in awe  – tonight for example, driving downhill, I thought that the incoming car had their lights too far up and shining in my eyes – so I signalled with the long lights.

No reaction.

Instead, the driver in front of me became exceedingly law-abiding. He/She even took to using the indicator lights! Amazing! The puzzle got solved quickly – I obviously wasn’t looking at cars around me, but my boyfriends was, and he says that the car I signalled to was a Police car.

Hehe.

OK, one polite English driver got persuaded to use the damn indicators. All is well.

Good night!

Kale – jarmuż

I was reluctant for a while to try this funny looking vegetable, but today I’ve finally given it a chance. I’ve stir-fried it and served with lamb chops, fried potatoes and followed with a chocolate pudding and a red. The pudding was cheated.

I loved it, the feeling of coolness in the stomach, the aroma – much gentler than coulifliower! And then I asked Uncle Google what was it – and it said: jarmuż…

How come I’ve never eaten it in Poland?

Thoughts on Anglican Church

I’m driving two hours every day, and I listen to the radio during that time. Yesterday I chanced upon a Bach organ concerto, which proved to be a part of Anglican Evensong service. I became really interested, can I spot any differences in an English-speaking service, being a Catholic (if a really bad one)? I knew that the Anglican Church is the official State Church of the UK, I knew that it has split off the Catholic Church in an attempt to make divorce available to King Henry VIII, and that Anglicans say that there isn’t much difference, that they consider their Church more Catholic than Protestant.

I went to see the Birmingham Cathedral once, but I felt heavily stared at and run off – I must have looked particularly Polish Catholic that day. The Church inside was much smaller than expected and a little like a theatre.

In the service on the radio, of which I only caught the last 20 minutes, there was mostly music and some prayers. What struck me was what kind of message the prayers have set out – may the music of this place lighten our lives, for example.

It looks from this small sample that the Anglican Church is much more concentrated on the congregation and their lives than on the afterlife and how we are in relationship to God. More like, how God is in relationship to people.

That might me the explanation of why the UK belongs to the rich countries along with the Protestant ones – this concentration on the material world.

I would have expected the service to be about how we are creatures and children of our Creator, both objects and subjects (hopefully) of HIS Majesty. But the Anglican Communion seems to want consolation more than anything else.

It must of course come from all the hardships though the centuries, the wars, the famines etc. It seems that the C of E responds to those needs very well, and now that the UK has made money on banking systems in London, it is gradually being abandoned.

There is even some talk of certain individuals returning to the Roman confession, but I am not sure do they realise just how nagging the little difference is. They would no longer be important.

I have to love England

Three times in a row they’ve refused to sell me alcohol on the grounds that I don’t look 25 :] I always thank them profoundly for the beautiful compliment

Our very own red brick house

Pretty, isn’t it?

The Americanized Hussar

Jacek Komudawrote another of his many pseudo-szlachta-world books. This time about the Dymitriads. It’s a pain to read for me, because it’s really a cowboy shooting book stylized for the 1st Republic of Both Nations. All it’s about are pub fights and duels, all ornamented with boorish, rude, show-off conversations among young rascals – no noble behaviour, no old Polish culture, no particular manners. Nothing.
We are indeed a society cut off of its culture. First, after the War we’ve awoken in a Modern Dream, the communist world with women running tractors, and now we are living in a shoddy version of American dream.
Shame.

How I learned to give alms

In my Mom’s opinion alms give to people on the street are not a smart thing. Those people are reported to make more on begging in a monthly income than an average person. And they will buy alcohol anyway. And if one wants to give them all something, the purse is empty before one reaches the end of the street.

The biggest argument when I lived with my parents was that it’s them who gave me money, so I am not to pass it on to strangers, but spend it on whatever I need.

But – alms-giving is a duty. That’s from my religious ponderings. It’s not my business of the other person will use the money well, it’s my business to do my duty, to share.

And I can still have sometimes this hard time about sharing some change with others – then the way of dealing with myself is to imagine that it’s my guardian angel coming to see if I will share with him, like he shares his help with me.