I spent almost four days in a village even smaller than the one I come from. It is one long road with houses on both sides and fields stretching far behind, up to the horizon. I don't know how many people live there but I guess around two hundred at best. Most, if not all of them are farmers. My younger son was constantly asking on the way: "Are we there yet?" and "When will we finally get there?" making me feel we were really traveling to the end of the world...
My mom's childhood house. Old, but changed now. Remodelled. A huge attic I used to love shrunk to give bedrooms to my three cousins, children of my mom's youngest sister. She is only 10 years older than me but we are worlds apart, in so many ways. My cousins, 20, 18, and 14 years old, reign upstairs now. No more dark corners, no more rickety stairs, no more perfect hiding places and dusty treasures.
I slept in one of the upstairs bedrooms, with a skylight over my head. I looked right at the Little Dipper every night. Perfectly dark nights, perfectly starry sky. On the last night there I woke up feeling an awfully bellicose presence above me. I thought I could make out a face staring down and me, a face that was so disfigured and ashy that did not look human anymore. And did not feel human. I heard something in my head, something like "What is she doing in my house? I don't know her, I don't want her here." I knew that was the meaning but I did not really hear the words clearly, I would not be able to say in what language they were spoken. It was as if I could hear thoughts before they were given the form of words. I tried to get myself fully awake, start thinking straight, but I could not. I looked again and I saw it again, and a little more clearly. A part of my brain was telling me it was not real, it was just one of my half-awake-half-asleep nightmares that visit me sometimes but it was so powerful this time that I just could not make it go away. I could hear its thoughts, feel its presence, I could almost touch it. And I just stared back at it, hypnotized by sheer terror until it faded, first from my vision, next from my consciousness. The air in the room felt so dense that I could not sleep in peace for the rest of the night. Tossing and turning I watched the night get brighter and brighter. This time I welcomed the bright daylight... this time I did not feel comfortable in the darkness.
I forgot I was supposed to write about bees and flowers, in other words, about something light and pleasant. In my next post I'll just gossip about my family and whine how thay have changed for the worse. No more ghosts and crazy minds. On the second thought, though, I cannot promise anything... It's almost midnight here in Poland. Sweet dreams...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Pride and Prejudice
Do I really want to talk pride with an American, even when it is my best friend? Yes, I think we can do it without risking a major international crisis, right? I started writing this as an answer to my friend's comment but it has grown to be too big to let it stay in the comment section. And seemed too important to leave it there.
My point when I was writing my last post was not to judge which approach to pride is better. I wanted to spell it out, mostly for myself, how we treat this feeling in Poland. I don't like extremes and that is why I am not very appreciative of how difficult it is to feel pride in Poland without being stigmatized as someone truly obnoxious. But I also think that displaying pride on every possible occassion is simply too much, somehow makes any achievement less admirable - as if we've spent all the admiration possible for it already, I don't know if that expresses my exact feeling about this clearly. I think it has a lot to do with our culture and what we have been surrounded with most of our lives. I think my understanding of pride is very different from what my American friend feels about it and possibly from my Polish-influenced British friend as well.
I'll try to explain why Americans may be disliked sometimes - when they display their pride for their country and say how it is the best possible place on earth to live in - what meaning can it have for the rest of the world? Americans may say at this point: "Feel free to talk the same way about your country," but wouldn't that be a little silly? Everybody singing praises for their one and only the most wonderful piece of the globe... It seems that in Europe being proud has a very strong connotation of lifting oneself above another so Americans are doomed to be perceived as obnoxious. Hearing Americans expressing their pride for their country makes people feel that Americans must consider themselves superior to other nations - to these poor unlucky non-Americans. Most people don't like to be pitied or looked down upon so it awakes negative emotions in them. Maybe the whole situation is the source of European scorn towards Americans. Now, the question if Americans really feel superior to other nations is something I don't think I can answer. Again, I hate generalizations.
One last thing - I think we need to be a little more open-minded and not project our own understanding of the world and words, for that matter, on other people. So maybe some or many Americans are not that obnoxious but just behave in a way that feels natural to them but also some or many non-Americans are not just pretending to be non-proud, they truly can't make themselves feel proud because they have been taught their whole lives that it is wrong to feel that way, and even worse and disrespectful to stick it in somebody else's face. I don't think we should suspect that people that appear humble are hypocrites just because humility is not highly valued in our culture. I have been taught that humility is a virtue and pride is a vice. The lesson must have stuck - maybe that's why I had to be practically forced by persuasion that my achievements at QC were actually something to be proud of. I came up with countless reasons for why I did so well - that I had some training back in Poland, that I was more mature than most students, that my mom helped me for a few semesters, etc. - of course, it had nothing to do with all the effort I put into it, sacrifices I had to make, or, God forbid, my skills, talent, or intellect! I think I am not alone in it - we will do our best trying to kill any emerging feelings of pride because we know it is dagerous, we have a strongly ingrained fear, maybe even a certainty, that it is a straight road to becoming full of onerself, conceited, simply an impossible person.
I was always told that people of the greatest minds were modest, that people that really did great things never thought much of themselves, that only the ones that are not too amazing need to make a big fuss about themselves to cover up their deficits. I am not saying that it is always true, but when you hear something like this often enough when you are a child, it sure shapes the way you perceive the world. So maybe some of us are subconsciously striving to be great and virtuous, however futile it may be, while others do take a shortcut and only pretend to be humble without even trying to fight their abominable pride?
I have just one more thing to say right now and please treat it more like thinking aloud, just some ideas that have come to my mind while writing this post. I would like to find out if it makes any sense, if possible. There is no intention here to offend anybody's feelings - I hope people who know me will have no doubt about that. Just overactive mind.
Can it be that patriotism was so promoted in the US because that was the only base for building some solidarity within the new country back when it was created? And it has been used since then to promote the same feeling among millions of newcomers just to make the country grow and be somehow unified and not fractioned by persistent loyalties towards countless foreign countries? That could make governing such a huge country quite difficult, I guess. Or it has been believed to be this way. I'm really not an expert on politics so I'll stop talking about that. But a similar reasoning can be applied to language policy at schools (that I know a little about and learnt about it from Americans) that for a very long time has concentrated on eradicating minority languages among immigrant children - something that is changing only very slowly right now. Obviously, keeping your minority language potentially allows for closer ties with your parents' culture and may slow down your acculturation process - and fast acculturation is perceived as very desirable under the cover of giving everybody equal chances. In reality, however, it can be quite problematic. Enough about that! I came here to relax and not deal with heavy topics! If it is going to continue I will alienate my American friend, whom I love dearly, and she will not come to visit! Next post will be about flowers and bees and the like....
My point when I was writing my last post was not to judge which approach to pride is better. I wanted to spell it out, mostly for myself, how we treat this feeling in Poland. I don't like extremes and that is why I am not very appreciative of how difficult it is to feel pride in Poland without being stigmatized as someone truly obnoxious. But I also think that displaying pride on every possible occassion is simply too much, somehow makes any achievement less admirable - as if we've spent all the admiration possible for it already, I don't know if that expresses my exact feeling about this clearly. I think it has a lot to do with our culture and what we have been surrounded with most of our lives. I think my understanding of pride is very different from what my American friend feels about it and possibly from my Polish-influenced British friend as well.
I'll try to explain why Americans may be disliked sometimes - when they display their pride for their country and say how it is the best possible place on earth to live in - what meaning can it have for the rest of the world? Americans may say at this point: "Feel free to talk the same way about your country," but wouldn't that be a little silly? Everybody singing praises for their one and only the most wonderful piece of the globe... It seems that in Europe being proud has a very strong connotation of lifting oneself above another so Americans are doomed to be perceived as obnoxious. Hearing Americans expressing their pride for their country makes people feel that Americans must consider themselves superior to other nations - to these poor unlucky non-Americans. Most people don't like to be pitied or looked down upon so it awakes negative emotions in them. Maybe the whole situation is the source of European scorn towards Americans. Now, the question if Americans really feel superior to other nations is something I don't think I can answer. Again, I hate generalizations.
One last thing - I think we need to be a little more open-minded and not project our own understanding of the world and words, for that matter, on other people. So maybe some or many Americans are not that obnoxious but just behave in a way that feels natural to them but also some or many non-Americans are not just pretending to be non-proud, they truly can't make themselves feel proud because they have been taught their whole lives that it is wrong to feel that way, and even worse and disrespectful to stick it in somebody else's face. I don't think we should suspect that people that appear humble are hypocrites just because humility is not highly valued in our culture. I have been taught that humility is a virtue and pride is a vice. The lesson must have stuck - maybe that's why I had to be practically forced by persuasion that my achievements at QC were actually something to be proud of. I came up with countless reasons for why I did so well - that I had some training back in Poland, that I was more mature than most students, that my mom helped me for a few semesters, etc. - of course, it had nothing to do with all the effort I put into it, sacrifices I had to make, or, God forbid, my skills, talent, or intellect! I think I am not alone in it - we will do our best trying to kill any emerging feelings of pride because we know it is dagerous, we have a strongly ingrained fear, maybe even a certainty, that it is a straight road to becoming full of onerself, conceited, simply an impossible person.
I was always told that people of the greatest minds were modest, that people that really did great things never thought much of themselves, that only the ones that are not too amazing need to make a big fuss about themselves to cover up their deficits. I am not saying that it is always true, but when you hear something like this often enough when you are a child, it sure shapes the way you perceive the world. So maybe some of us are subconsciously striving to be great and virtuous, however futile it may be, while others do take a shortcut and only pretend to be humble without even trying to fight their abominable pride?
I have just one more thing to say right now and please treat it more like thinking aloud, just some ideas that have come to my mind while writing this post. I would like to find out if it makes any sense, if possible. There is no intention here to offend anybody's feelings - I hope people who know me will have no doubt about that. Just overactive mind.
Can it be that patriotism was so promoted in the US because that was the only base for building some solidarity within the new country back when it was created? And it has been used since then to promote the same feeling among millions of newcomers just to make the country grow and be somehow unified and not fractioned by persistent loyalties towards countless foreign countries? That could make governing such a huge country quite difficult, I guess. Or it has been believed to be this way. I'm really not an expert on politics so I'll stop talking about that. But a similar reasoning can be applied to language policy at schools (that I know a little about and learnt about it from Americans) that for a very long time has concentrated on eradicating minority languages among immigrant children - something that is changing only very slowly right now. Obviously, keeping your minority language potentially allows for closer ties with your parents' culture and may slow down your acculturation process - and fast acculturation is perceived as very desirable under the cover of giving everybody equal chances. In reality, however, it can be quite problematic. Enough about that! I came here to relax and not deal with heavy topics! If it is going to continue I will alienate my American friend, whom I love dearly, and she will not come to visit! Next post will be about flowers and bees and the like....
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The nature of being proud
Let's talk about being proud:
proud
1. Feeling pleasurable satisfaction over an act, possession, quality, or relationship by which one measures one's stature or self-worth.
2. Occasioning or being a reason for pride.
3. Feeling or showing justifiable self-respect.
4. Filled with or showing excessive self-esteem.
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English language list several shades of meanings. I copied only these four and then checked a Polish Language dictionary to see if I find what I expected to find. And I was not mistaken. The meanings given were very similar to the ones I listed above, this seems to be a word with a close correspondence in meaning between these two languages. However, there is one significant difference - in the order of the meanings given. Does it matter? As far as I know, the order of the meanings should, on principle, reflect the order of the most common to the least common usage. Don't ask me how it is determined but at least here it collaborates with my hypothesis, namely that in Polish the word "proud" carries the "excessive" meaning more often than in English. It may be a little redundant to say at this point(but I will say it anyway) that meaning number 4 above moved up to number 2 in Polish, the first meaning being basically the same. It is hardly a proof but still, must mean something, right?
It is not good to be proud in Poland. It may be changing but I think its negative connotation has a long way to go before it gets degraded to number 4... You can be proud of somebody else, for example your friend has just finished a marathon on a wheelchair - it is very natural to be proud of such a strong willed friend. You have a right to be proud, especially if you somehow helped the person to achive this incredible feat. But you should never say you helped because then your being proud is not that noble anymore. The assumption goes - you have your share in the success - no wonder you are #4 proud!
Under certain circumstances, you are allowed to be proud of your kids. It is tricky, though. You boast about their grades, awards, successes, and whatever else a little too much (and the question is what is too much? - never easy to say) and you are just another crazy parent and everybody assumes your kid must be average at best - maybe you are trying to cover up for something? If everything were so well you'd feel satisfied and wouldn't need to make all this fuss... Everybody hates you and your kids too, just in case they are as full of shit as their parents. Again, if your kids overcame some extraordinary difficulties to achieve what they did you are given a little more room to carry your pride around.
Now, the most problematic situation to deal with is being proud of yourself. Here, even if you had worked your butt off and fought with cancer while writing a bestseller or learnt to paint with your mouth after an accident that left you paralysed.... even then you should not talk too much about how proud you are. People will be proud of you, some have not lifted a finger to help you out but for some reason they will tell you how proud of you they are. I understand that semantics can be really complicated at this point - of course, it is not the same kind of pride every time - when you are proud of somebody who truly deserves it, you feel moved by the achievement, you appreciate the amount of effort it took to do this particular thing for that person but what you are really doing by saying: "I am so proud of you," may actually be this: "I feel proud for you, so you don't need to taint your wonderful success and your admirable person with this low feeling."
So how do you speak about your successes in Poland? The best way is to tell some friendly or easily bought person all about this and let them sing your praises. But you have to pick very carefully, it cannot be somebody that would benefit from making your achievements widely known even in the slightest way, like taking credit for some of it. That would make you lose all credibility. Ideally, it should be somebody superior to you, or an expert in the field of your success, totally unrelated to you. Your role then will be to be appropriately embarrassed, get a little red in the face if you can, and say something like "Oh, stop it, that was not that great. I was just lucky!" They won't like it but they will accept that you did what you did. And that it is something.
Maybe I do have an issue with this word - there is one more aspect of it that I could say something about but I'll leave it for some other time because it's getting late here in Poland. Maybe the fact that I have had several traumatic experiences with words make me want to be a linguist? Something like the idea that many people decide to study psychology to find solutions to their screwed up lives... I guess I should have considered psychology... Well, a little too late now!
Anyway, it does seem sometimes that when you talk to people about your failures, problems, and difficulties you come across as more approachable and friendly than when you toot your own trumpet too often (is that how you say it? Anybody?). Unless you overdo the complaining, of course. I don't think friends or relationship gained this way can be true and lasting. You will just get a little attention, for as long as you serve the purpose of making people feel better about themselves, either because they realize they are not as miserable as you are or because they can be so nobly supportive and helpful. The moment you are not needed anymore... well, who wants a needy or whiny friend around all the time? Get a grip, finally!
proud
1. Feeling pleasurable satisfaction over an act, possession, quality, or relationship by which one measures one's stature or self-worth.
2. Occasioning or being a reason for pride.
3. Feeling or showing justifiable self-respect.
4. Filled with or showing excessive self-esteem.
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English language list several shades of meanings. I copied only these four and then checked a Polish Language dictionary to see if I find what I expected to find. And I was not mistaken. The meanings given were very similar to the ones I listed above, this seems to be a word with a close correspondence in meaning between these two languages. However, there is one significant difference - in the order of the meanings given. Does it matter? As far as I know, the order of the meanings should, on principle, reflect the order of the most common to the least common usage. Don't ask me how it is determined but at least here it collaborates with my hypothesis, namely that in Polish the word "proud" carries the "excessive" meaning more often than in English. It may be a little redundant to say at this point(but I will say it anyway) that meaning number 4 above moved up to number 2 in Polish, the first meaning being basically the same. It is hardly a proof but still, must mean something, right?
It is not good to be proud in Poland. It may be changing but I think its negative connotation has a long way to go before it gets degraded to number 4... You can be proud of somebody else, for example your friend has just finished a marathon on a wheelchair - it is very natural to be proud of such a strong willed friend. You have a right to be proud, especially if you somehow helped the person to achive this incredible feat. But you should never say you helped because then your being proud is not that noble anymore. The assumption goes - you have your share in the success - no wonder you are #4 proud!
Under certain circumstances, you are allowed to be proud of your kids. It is tricky, though. You boast about their grades, awards, successes, and whatever else a little too much (and the question is what is too much? - never easy to say) and you are just another crazy parent and everybody assumes your kid must be average at best - maybe you are trying to cover up for something? If everything were so well you'd feel satisfied and wouldn't need to make all this fuss... Everybody hates you and your kids too, just in case they are as full of shit as their parents. Again, if your kids overcame some extraordinary difficulties to achieve what they did you are given a little more room to carry your pride around.
Now, the most problematic situation to deal with is being proud of yourself. Here, even if you had worked your butt off and fought with cancer while writing a bestseller or learnt to paint with your mouth after an accident that left you paralysed.... even then you should not talk too much about how proud you are. People will be proud of you, some have not lifted a finger to help you out but for some reason they will tell you how proud of you they are. I understand that semantics can be really complicated at this point - of course, it is not the same kind of pride every time - when you are proud of somebody who truly deserves it, you feel moved by the achievement, you appreciate the amount of effort it took to do this particular thing for that person but what you are really doing by saying: "I am so proud of you," may actually be this: "I feel proud for you, so you don't need to taint your wonderful success and your admirable person with this low feeling."
So how do you speak about your successes in Poland? The best way is to tell some friendly or easily bought person all about this and let them sing your praises. But you have to pick very carefully, it cannot be somebody that would benefit from making your achievements widely known even in the slightest way, like taking credit for some of it. That would make you lose all credibility. Ideally, it should be somebody superior to you, or an expert in the field of your success, totally unrelated to you. Your role then will be to be appropriately embarrassed, get a little red in the face if you can, and say something like "Oh, stop it, that was not that great. I was just lucky!" They won't like it but they will accept that you did what you did. And that it is something.
Maybe I do have an issue with this word - there is one more aspect of it that I could say something about but I'll leave it for some other time because it's getting late here in Poland. Maybe the fact that I have had several traumatic experiences with words make me want to be a linguist? Something like the idea that many people decide to study psychology to find solutions to their screwed up lives... I guess I should have considered psychology... Well, a little too late now!
Anyway, it does seem sometimes that when you talk to people about your failures, problems, and difficulties you come across as more approachable and friendly than when you toot your own trumpet too often (is that how you say it? Anybody?). Unless you overdo the complaining, of course. I don't think friends or relationship gained this way can be true and lasting. You will just get a little attention, for as long as you serve the purpose of making people feel better about themselves, either because they realize they are not as miserable as you are or because they can be so nobly supportive and helpful. The moment you are not needed anymore... well, who wants a needy or whiny friend around all the time? Get a grip, finally!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Great (or not so great) expectations
OK, some more "me, here, so misunderstood" whinning... But it really makes me furious how I am expected to behave in a certain way just because I don't live here anymore and probably especially because I moved so far away. I do understand that things are different but I won't be visiting every single aunt and cousin and soon after I come because people think I am too proud to make them feel like visiting me. It may sound a little confusing but I think it works this way - because it seems obvious to some that I must be feeling superior to them, I have to go out of my way to be very humble and do things I never did when still here (like visit some members of my family, not to mention have some meaningful conversations with them).
People project things, thoughts, feelings, and I don't know what else on me and I am supposed to prove it all wrong. And it's getting worse - a couple of years ago people would just informally come over for a while to talk or we would just talk a moment when we met somewhere shopping or whatever and that's it. Now I really feel like never leaving my mom's garden. I used to get more smiles, nods, meaningless but at least neutral small talk here and there and now I'm mostly getting these searching glares, I don't know... I'm sitting here, quite frustrated, trying to figure out how much the bad vibe I'm getting is real and how much it's something I make up, or feel because I've changed too much. I know one thing - I don't feel comfortable among these people. And I don't feel comfortable not feeling comfortable!
Why do they have to expect all those things from me? I don't think I made them do it by behaving in some particular way because they hardly see me! And it's not very different from how it was when I was living here. But I was one of them then, so maybe that's why it was ok?
I just want them to leave me alone, have some peace finally. I want nobody to know me! I simply can't find a place where I could have some peace... Is it so much to ask? A place where I could stop thinking, remembering, planning, expecting, fearing, obsessing about... a place where I could just be. I should look for it somewhere inside my mind - if it's not there how can I find it outside? But my mind feels like a crazy rollercoaster ride most of the time... It's not that I don't like rollercoasters - actually, I got totally addicted to them after I got on one for the first time (not so long ago, by the way, we don't have those really good ones in Poland yet so I had to wait until my son got big enough to drag me on one). But you cannot make a home on a rollercoaster, can you? You need to get off and get a rest. Where's my rest? Have to wait for RIP, I guess.
Now, coming back to expectations. These are such tricky beasts. Can never feed them enough, cannot kill them as the are usually too big, cannot ignore them as you'd trip over them sonner or later anyway. The world is so full of them, bombarding you from every possible direction, sometimes making it difficult to figure out what your true feelings are. Can never satisfy them, always slipping when trying. Always someone gets disappointed. What if there were none? What would we do? How would we behave? Maybe then, finally, we would be able to live up to them... they would not exist - how difficult could that be? How unimaginably stupid do I sound right now?
People project things, thoughts, feelings, and I don't know what else on me and I am supposed to prove it all wrong. And it's getting worse - a couple of years ago people would just informally come over for a while to talk or we would just talk a moment when we met somewhere shopping or whatever and that's it. Now I really feel like never leaving my mom's garden. I used to get more smiles, nods, meaningless but at least neutral small talk here and there and now I'm mostly getting these searching glares, I don't know... I'm sitting here, quite frustrated, trying to figure out how much the bad vibe I'm getting is real and how much it's something I make up, or feel because I've changed too much. I know one thing - I don't feel comfortable among these people. And I don't feel comfortable not feeling comfortable!
Why do they have to expect all those things from me? I don't think I made them do it by behaving in some particular way because they hardly see me! And it's not very different from how it was when I was living here. But I was one of them then, so maybe that's why it was ok?
I just want them to leave me alone, have some peace finally. I want nobody to know me! I simply can't find a place where I could have some peace... Is it so much to ask? A place where I could stop thinking, remembering, planning, expecting, fearing, obsessing about... a place where I could just be. I should look for it somewhere inside my mind - if it's not there how can I find it outside? But my mind feels like a crazy rollercoaster ride most of the time... It's not that I don't like rollercoasters - actually, I got totally addicted to them after I got on one for the first time (not so long ago, by the way, we don't have those really good ones in Poland yet so I had to wait until my son got big enough to drag me on one). But you cannot make a home on a rollercoaster, can you? You need to get off and get a rest. Where's my rest? Have to wait for RIP, I guess.
Now, coming back to expectations. These are such tricky beasts. Can never feed them enough, cannot kill them as the are usually too big, cannot ignore them as you'd trip over them sonner or later anyway. The world is so full of them, bombarding you from every possible direction, sometimes making it difficult to figure out what your true feelings are. Can never satisfy them, always slipping when trying. Always someone gets disappointed. What if there were none? What would we do? How would we behave? Maybe then, finally, we would be able to live up to them... they would not exist - how difficult could that be? How unimaginably stupid do I sound right now?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Silver lining
I've heard it a few times but never believed it much... a hopeful or comforting prospect in the midst of difficulty... can it be really true? I found this cloud today on my evening walk. Left me pondering over the question of how much we can trust the heavens... But it did look beautiful. Does beautiful mean true? Beauty can be blinding, can't it? Oh, forget it! I believe in the silver lining, at least tonight.
A picture story
I'm wondering...
My new school:
in the city of bright lights:
My new school:
in the city of bright lights:
and me:
from a place of shadows:
Is it really a match?
I'm wondering...
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Remembered
I remembered today how I loved the sound of wind lost in the trees. I used to lie down under a linden tree somewhere in the middle of one of the meadows around my house, close my eyes, and pretend it's the sea I loved so much but could only see once every few years.
I remembered today how I loved the sound of crickets hidden in the bushes or in the fields. You could chase the chirping for hours and never find the source of it. So strong, yet so elusive.
I remembered today how I loved twilight, the time when night is born. Only when the daylight is fading can sounds and smells emerge. Your eyes open wider but you can see shadows only. You let go. Get startled by he sounds you could not hear with your eyes still seeing. Strange, unknown, soft rustlings, alive. Get dizzy with the scents the sun is always killing. You discover a whole new world. Your mind at peace but your body never more alive. Finally separated.
It's night now.
I remembered today how I loved the sound of crickets hidden in the bushes or in the fields. You could chase the chirping for hours and never find the source of it. So strong, yet so elusive.
I remembered today how I loved twilight, the time when night is born. Only when the daylight is fading can sounds and smells emerge. Your eyes open wider but you can see shadows only. You let go. Get startled by he sounds you could not hear with your eyes still seeing. Strange, unknown, soft rustlings, alive. Get dizzy with the scents the sun is always killing. You discover a whole new world. Your mind at peace but your body never more alive. Finally separated.
It's night now.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Circus
I'm back. Back here, on my blog, writing. Back in Poland. Should I be saying "back in Poland"? Would that mean that this is my permanent home? But it's not. Or is it?
I'm writing in English, in my all Polish childhood house, it's the middle of the night but it's not even 6 p.m. in New York, I'm probably somewhere in between... time, place, me - all mixed, all so not real right now. I'm confused, maybe not utterly but still, confused. Every hour I spend here I discover new things in me, things that I was half aware of when in NY but which become much clearer here, things that have changed in me since last year and years before. Never been as aware of it all as now. I'm wondering why? My mind is not here at all. Not like it was before. And people look at me in such a strange way, as if they could see all of it. Do I walk differently? Do I talk differently? I went to a local grocery store and I got a hundred stolen fractions of stares. The circus came to town, folks! And I don't know so many of these people who are pretending not to stare. Do they even have any idea who I am or they just see a new face and are trying to figure out who, where, and why. Oh, and the silence we get all around when my kids start speaking English - a fricking circus! Should find it entertaining myself but somehow I cannot. We'll just stay home. Make everybody pay for coming to see the freaks if they really want to.
I'm being so unfair now. Soap operas and gossip are two biggest sources of excitement and entertainment for so many people here. I should be compassionate and help them out - maybe wear a cowgirl hat, or put lots of stars and stripes on my clothes, or start speaking with an American accent, or do some other outrageous things expected from outsiders - and even more exciting when coming from an insider-turned-outsider one. I can almost hear somebody conclude: "Yes, I knew she would end up so strange, never fitted in, always keeping herself aloof. Probably feeling so much better than all of us now, and why would she, ha? What has she done so great? That she moved to America? That doesn't make her any better,anybody could do that. Always was too proud to play with our kids like everybody else!" And they would be so right and so wrong!
I'm writing in English, in my all Polish childhood house, it's the middle of the night but it's not even 6 p.m. in New York, I'm probably somewhere in between... time, place, me - all mixed, all so not real right now. I'm confused, maybe not utterly but still, confused. Every hour I spend here I discover new things in me, things that I was half aware of when in NY but which become much clearer here, things that have changed in me since last year and years before. Never been as aware of it all as now. I'm wondering why? My mind is not here at all. Not like it was before. And people look at me in such a strange way, as if they could see all of it. Do I walk differently? Do I talk differently? I went to a local grocery store and I got a hundred stolen fractions of stares. The circus came to town, folks! And I don't know so many of these people who are pretending not to stare. Do they even have any idea who I am or they just see a new face and are trying to figure out who, where, and why. Oh, and the silence we get all around when my kids start speaking English - a fricking circus! Should find it entertaining myself but somehow I cannot. We'll just stay home. Make everybody pay for coming to see the freaks if they really want to.
I'm being so unfair now. Soap operas and gossip are two biggest sources of excitement and entertainment for so many people here. I should be compassionate and help them out - maybe wear a cowgirl hat, or put lots of stars and stripes on my clothes, or start speaking with an American accent, or do some other outrageous things expected from outsiders - and even more exciting when coming from an insider-turned-outsider one. I can almost hear somebody conclude: "Yes, I knew she would end up so strange, never fitted in, always keeping herself aloof. Probably feeling so much better than all of us now, and why would she, ha? What has she done so great? That she moved to America? That doesn't make her any better,anybody could do that. Always was too proud to play with our kids like everybody else!" And they would be so right and so wrong!
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