There's still signs of Poland fighting. Through the curtains and chimneys of communism Poland rises in this town. The Stalin Star becomes a symbol of war for many of us. Poland naturally becomes clearer. The more footsteps of communism I see, the more I love her. Poland, for what she was and always will be for us. The Polish nation will never notice the change. They pass the old communist party houses, they work in offices built by the communist. They even live in communist blocks in the ''West Estate" at the end of the town. But they dont seem to remember. What she had to go through, what she had to see to look the way she looks now. With her curtains made of pain and pride remembers the old when she faces the new offices and apartments being built next to her windows.
To me, the new doesnt look good in this place. I think it's the old, the gray, the walls with clay falling off that make Poland what she really is. This is exactly, what makes her my home.
It's not easy. Being here. Living here and trying to be happy. But I never expected things to be easy in a place where the cashiers at Tesco have the look on their faces as if they were going through a constipation of their lives, and where you have to mind your things before they get stolen. By a twelve year old gypsy girl. In a wheelchair. On ice.
(Ok, maybe not on ice. But you get the idea.)
And to be completely honest with you I never even wanted it to be easy here. I wanted to be so busy, to have so many things to do, that I would hardly find the time to sleep. I wanted to go from a person that used to leave everything for the next day, to a person that had everything done the day before the schedule. That's what I wanted, and what I have gotten. But I never really realised what all of these things that I had to do, to think about, to help with would do to me. To me as a character, a mind, a soul. A person as a whole. I have never really thought that making my dreams come true would make me feel so bad with myself. But then again, it's hard to see anything good about yourself when you barely have the time to read a text message. Not to mention hobbies and interests.
I'm not talented in any way, Ive lost all of my interests since I left Poland, there is nothing I am good at. And yet I think, I am happy living in a country that has so many things to offer me, so many things to teach me. I have lived my things in Eire. I have seen my things in Eire. She has thought me how to be myself. But all of this will not pass me in here. It's different. It's difficult. And this is, what I love about Poland.
I now see her through the eyes of a young adult that has to organise her own life, her own time and money, and not through the eyes of a ten year old girl who cannot go to the city centre without her momma. Things have changed. I have changed. The things Eire has taught me, I will remember and take to my grave with me, even though the knowledge I gained there will very rarely come to a use in Poland. But is it bad? I don't think so.
Will I make it here? Will I keep on changing for better? Will I chase after my dreams and will I eventually become and interesting person? Maybe. Or maybe not.
You'll never know. And that's what beautiful.
It really is.
To me, the new doesnt look good in this place. I think it's the old, the gray, the walls with clay falling off that make Poland what she really is. This is exactly, what makes her my home.
It's not easy. Being here. Living here and trying to be happy. But I never expected things to be easy in a place where the cashiers at Tesco have the look on their faces as if they were going through a constipation of their lives, and where you have to mind your things before they get stolen. By a twelve year old gypsy girl. In a wheelchair. On ice.
(Ok, maybe not on ice. But you get the idea.)
And to be completely honest with you I never even wanted it to be easy here. I wanted to be so busy, to have so many things to do, that I would hardly find the time to sleep. I wanted to go from a person that used to leave everything for the next day, to a person that had everything done the day before the schedule. That's what I wanted, and what I have gotten. But I never really realised what all of these things that I had to do, to think about, to help with would do to me. To me as a character, a mind, a soul. A person as a whole. I have never really thought that making my dreams come true would make me feel so bad with myself. But then again, it's hard to see anything good about yourself when you barely have the time to read a text message. Not to mention hobbies and interests.
I'm not talented in any way, Ive lost all of my interests since I left Poland, there is nothing I am good at. And yet I think, I am happy living in a country that has so many things to offer me, so many things to teach me. I have lived my things in Eire. I have seen my things in Eire. She has thought me how to be myself. But all of this will not pass me in here. It's different. It's difficult. And this is, what I love about Poland.
I now see her through the eyes of a young adult that has to organise her own life, her own time and money, and not through the eyes of a ten year old girl who cannot go to the city centre without her momma. Things have changed. I have changed. The things Eire has taught me, I will remember and take to my grave with me, even though the knowledge I gained there will very rarely come to a use in Poland. But is it bad? I don't think so.
Will I make it here? Will I keep on changing for better? Will I chase after my dreams and will I eventually become and interesting person? Maybe. Or maybe not.
You'll never know. And that's what beautiful.
It really is.
