The burdens of each generation

 

"Poor little ones!" the elderly lady selling masks exclaimed."They are the first generation to not have someone close in the family to live through the war. And now this! Dear God!"

I had just bought two facemasks for my grandchildren back home, and the seller and I had discussed age, size, design, slowly finding a mutual understanding of what I wanted to buy. I ended up with a pink mask with stars and a green one with cute little foxes. There. The maske-selling masked lady's voice oozed with heartfelt empathy for the children having to wear masks now - more or less from the time they quit their stroller.

Masks are mandatory everywhere in Poland these days. Have been for ... four or five weeks at this moment? My sense of time gets blurred like my steemed up glasses. Restaurants and cafés have been closed for just as long, malls for two weeks. Street shops are open, but taking all necessary precautions, letting in only af few customers at a time. Parks and recreational spaces are crowded, though. Especially over the weekends.

Up to perhaps 95% of people in the streets wear masks. Sounds like a good rate, right?

Wait till you see just HOW people wear them. If your having a fag or a snack, you will of course pull down your mask. But otherwise I reckon that about 1/3 has pulled their mask under their nose or even under their chin. Many have chosen to wear a visor - either sheilding half or all of their face. They steem up, too, it seems. Young people wear more creativ designs, others stick to the disposable, single use mask ... not having figured out the metal clamp over the nose. Some people use this kind several times. Like for instance the old, scrubby lady in a dirty coat. As a good citizen she was wearing a mask that had turned grey over time from use and what not. The boundaries between ressourcefull, careless, poor, negligent, or swag mask-users are clear cut in the street landscape.

Back home in Denmark, people don't wear masks unless indoors or in public transportation. Sounds like a fairytale to me. Seems to be very, very far away. Another world. Not that I'm complaining. It's just a mask, and I'm figuring out which ones to wear when moving gracefully (dark blue with rhine stone decoration) or energetically (folklore flowers) in my hood - or when biking (and, yes, I pull the mask under my nose, when I ride my bike - steemed up glasses spell disaster if you're on a bike). No drama. Unlike parts of the discussions around the world. 

And my granddaughter in Denmark? She keeps asking for a day off with mom, so they can ride the bus wearing stylish, Polish masks. 

Those who cannot remember the past ...

courtesy @ewitsoe /Erik Witsoe

 "Beep-beep-beep", two year old Tomek kept saying imitating the rythmical shouting of the protesters right below his windows in Poznan. His father was relieved that the actual words "Fuck PiS*" only translated to the beep-sound in his son's mind.

The protests started last week as the Constitutional Court outruled the possibility of legal abortion of severely damaged foetuses (of which there were 1116 in 2019, less than 0,003% of all live born babies), the demonstration has gained momentum, and the numbers of participants are soaring. What started off last Thursday as spontaneous demonstrations at Poland's de facto leader Jarosław Kaczyński's house, turned into happenings at the Sunday masses, blocking trafic in the rush hour since Monday, and Women's strike on Wednesday. Every evening protesters have gathered in the squares, in front of PiS' head quaters, in front of Ordo Iuris, the organisation believed (and with quite some substance) to have a role in the shadows of governing.

In the political debate (quite the eufemism) members of PiS and the opposition shout incessantly at each other, without paying attention to moderators. The air is toxic and vile for anyone who thought they'd breath the air of democratic debate.

Not only Tomek, the toddler, imitates what he hears. So does Kaczyński, comparing the furious women of the opposition to ruska agentura -  Russian spies, defectors - in a speach that has quickly become a meme comparing him to a toddler in diapers or general Jaruzelski - the man imposing Marshall Law on Poland in the 1980'ies. Kaczyński's rhetoric has a chilling resemblance to the authoritarian propaganda and smearing of political opponents of the former Polish People's Republic. Ironically, Kaczyński was among the people to get Solidarity up and running to finally overthrow the communist regime back in the days.

A sign of an authoritarian regime is the lack of self-irony, and - as has been quoted on numerous occasions including the present situation - those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. 

One may only hope the government reconsiders soon, and start a dialogue with their protesters. This is becoming much more than a question about 179 legal abortions. It has become a question of the survival of Kaczyński's legacy and he's about to repeat history.

*PiS - Prawo i Sprawiedliwość - Law and Justice, the ruling, conservative party.

When a woman's body belongs to the church and the state.

courtesy @plakaty_szymon_szymankiewicz

 "Poland is now in the black zone", one Twitter user pointed out, stretching the fact that the country has been a red Covid19-zone for a week. Today, however, the change of colour zone has nothing to do with the pandemia.

Today the Constitutional Court of Poland ruled that Polish women's right to get an abortion under secure conditions in case the foetus is severely ill is unconstitutional. As a result 98% of the remaining legal abortions is now no longer legal. As of today only pregnancies due to rape or incest or if endangering the life of the mother are legal.

I'm no expert on the political shenanigans leading to this disastrous decision, but I do know a bit about the history of legal abortion, so buckle up for a history lesson:

Up till 1973, legal abortions were only to wish for in Denmark. Before that, unfortunate women might profit from Poland's liberal regulations on abortion, by simply 'going on holiday to the East Block'. If nothing else, that was considered an advantage of the communist regime. I recall photos from the debate in the Danish parliament. Members of the conservative part of the Lutheran Clergy attended the vote holding up their cross, eyes closes, faces torn in agony. The relief when the motion was passed was palpable around the coffee tables of womanhood. This sort of empowerment was vital for women's health, life possibilities, economy, you name it ...

When the wall came down and Poland elected the first independent government in 1989, one of the first subjects on the political agenda was the legislation about free access to legal abortions. The debate revealed a Catholic Clergy with a clear sense of how to control the newly elected anti-communist members of parliament: threatening to excommunicate anyone voting in favour of a liberal legislation, the table was set for ... well, the return of coat hangers.

The anti-abortion movement has gained even more weight over the last 5 to 10 years, narrowing down possibilities for women to make their own health and life choices to near nothing.

In the street where I live, one of the few hospitals providing legal intervention was the scene of both a pro-life and a pro-choice demonstration last week. The place swarmed with police. Around one corner the pro-choice group was small and furiously calm. Around the other the priest led the prayer (transmitted on a portable loudspeaker), a semi-circle of kneeling people around him. A huge banner with the photo of an aborted foetus (never mind these scary photos are not a reasonable reflection of the reality). I wondered how the hospitalized women - regardless of their condition - might experience this manifestation in the midst of what I imagine must be a difficult time for them. 

And to tie the knot: one of the pro-life activists carried a sign saying "LGBT-people: let life get a chance". The hipocricy and blatant ignorance is - I'm sorry to report - characteristic for vast parts of the political discourse.

Need I mention, I ended this black day for my fellow females donating to a counceling organisation?

About Health and Age ...

"Yoga!!! That's only for the mind", the kind doctor said tapping his temple with a pointy finger.

I was at the mandatory health check proceeding the signing of my contract. In Poland, health insurance is primarily associated with your place of work, so before signing a contract, the employer needs a general health assessment of the future employee. We had gone over my medical story, checked lungs, heart, and pulse (yes, I DO have one!). Everything was in brilliant order.

Back in Denmark, yoga would be considered not only a 'mind thing', but certainly also a way to strengthen your body. I've only tried it out a few times - but chose the more loner-friendly activity of individual fitness & weight lifting as my reluctant excercise. The Polish doctor was relieved to hear that I ride my bike,  climb the stairs to the 4th floor, and abstain from smoking. The solid pillars of a decent and healthy life, it seemed. My regular GP would consider this level of activity lazy, a health liability, and far too little to expect for an otherwise healthy person my age.

Not only am I fit as a fiddle, I'm also the perfect age ... well, at least if you contemplate the alternative.

Nevertheless, in Poland the perception of age seems different from what I'm used to. My young landlady was perhaps under the influence of the information that I have grandchildren, when she - concerned about my future well-being - wanted to know if I were aware of the lack of lift in the building. When I confirmed, she added "but it may be hard ... carrying groceries and all." I assured her, she needn't worry. The only day the stairs were too high and too many was the day I moved in. But otherwise? No problem.

All my life I've seen my peers go out of their way to not conform with the expectations of a 40, 50, 60, or 70 year old. They've managed to keep their generation en vogue no matter how old they were. Climbing mountains at 60, taking a younger lover, having children at 40. Or as I - move abroad to outlive a vision of a different work life - despite af being a granny. 

No one puts this generation in a corner.

Why? This? Now?

"Are you splitting up?" was the first reaction I got, when revealing I had applied for a position in Poland. To be fair, the person didn't know me too well.

However, the question of why this now? is relevant - if for nothing else, to at least have an idea about the motivation for doing, what you're about to do.

So here we go. 

Professional reasons: I wanted to try out and develop a trait of my professional life by teaching Danish to university students in Poland (Yes! it IS a thing - just like studying Polish in Denmark is). Working in teacher education, I'll get a hands on experience of teaching a second language this way. A kind of walk the walk, not just do the talk. Furthermore, after more than 15 years in the same line of teaching, I needed to push myself out of the comfort zone. And, yes, I've been in this city, this university, this department as a student, so there's also a subtle point of being a Polonist crossing my tracks to the story.

Personal reasons: No, we are not splitting up. Far from (but make no mistake: this would have been jeopardous some years back). The kids are grown now, so pursuing a professional dream of this kind was possible without having to move (or abandon) the whole family in the midst of the childrens' basic education. None of my closest family or friends have expressed anything but support and encouragement. A few more distant friends have reacted in ways that would focus on the significance this would have for my professional profile. Colleagues have been supportive as well - even though we shan't have the daily raport we used to.

Except for very limited areas in life, I guess I've always been a bit unpredictable, surprising or even incomprehensible. I wear those as badges of honour.

"Aren't you just running away from this or that?" is a question I've asked myself many times. Not so much, I think. Or rather - what may start off as some sort of escape, ends up having a goal and a purpose of its own. No action has one simple explanation if you're dealing with the higher levels of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Without the sense of connection and belonging - and especially knowing where you belong - the whole question of self-actualization becomes a risky business. 

Don't jump into the deep end unless you know how to swim.

What's in a name?

Stary Rynek, Poznań

"Oh, so you're a PhD?" the lady in HR said crossing out one title, replacing it with dr. I am now officially dr. Arnfast after moving from Copenhagen, Denmark, to Poznań, Poland. According to local academia, not only should I (and the students even more) use my title to take the place in society that I have earned - it's expected.

Coming from a very informal society when it comes to names and titles, this is a tangible difference between Denmark and Poland. In Danish academia, you won't find anyone using titles unless on grand occasions. In the daily work, it's considered stiff, up-stiffety, unnecessarily posh, a relict from before the youth rebellion (1968 in case you wonder).

At the introductory meeting with the students there was even a slide in the slideshow with examples of how to address academic staff in writing and in speech: magister (mgr.), doktor habilitowany (dr. hab.)(PhD), Mr./Mrs., most honourable Mr./Mrs. The feeling of being not only in Central Europe, but in the center of manifest history is overwhelming. I was happy I didn't crack a joke to the students about only calling me dr. Arnfast once a year.

The Barista

But there was more to come. Another sign of equality in naming a person in Denmark is the possibility of using both parents' names - if they have kept their christian names. So, mine is: first name + middle name (patronym) + last name (matronym). Not here. 

If a woman marries, she may either take her husband's family name, or she may add it to her own, using a hyphen to signify the liason. It's rather common among women with higher educations, and it holds a powerful signature of both social and educational prestige.

As a part of signing my contract here, I've been collecting stamps and signatures from differents offices and departments. It wasn't until I sat in the last office on a Tuesday morning, I realised how my middle name messes up the local systems. There is no box for middle names. If you're lucky, there's a box for second first name. That's it. So, I'm adjusting. Putting away the middle name I took as a pre-teen to manifest the bond with my father. Leaving the Arnfast name to rule my life as a visiting citizen in Poland on its own. It feels a bit like temporarily storing a part of my identity, and I feel the slightly rebellious joy of signing papers using S. to indicate there's more to this dr. than merely Arnfast.