Poznan 14th -17th November 2008

It’s around freezing point and I’m walking briskly through the darkened streets of Poznan, bag of beer bottles clinking in hand with my new friend Peter, a fiery, politically minded student with the look of a bear about him. We’re having a discussion about Poland’s place in Europe and I ask him what he thinks about his neighbours. He tells me they have an old saying here in Poland, ‘We go to work to kill the Germans. We kill Russians for pleasure.’ And they say old wounds die hard.

For the Polish, those wounds are deep and relatively fresh. The country has seen more than its fair share of troubles over the past century with two brutal world wars followed by communist rule which was eventually overthrown in 1989. In many respects the country is only now getting back on its feet with a growing economy and an increasingly European mindset (Poland officially joined the European Union in 2004). A part of me is thankful that the Poles have still to join the Euro as the exchange rate means you get plenty for your pounds here.

Poznan’s excellent value for money first hits home when out for dinner with a few friends. Our full meal for four including drinks comes to 111 zloty (around £25), a bargain in anyone’s book. I’m delighted, this means I don’t have to feel guilty every time I visit a cash machine or whip out the credit card. For those looking for a good buy Poznan provides plenty of shopping opportunities, from the weekend markets and street-side stalls to international high street names and fashion boutiques.

As you walk the city streets it’s clear to see that Polish women like to spend a lot on looking good, almost resulting in me being trampled by a tram on more than one occasion.

Poznan has a high level of support for the right-wing political party Law and Justice (PiS) which may be a reflection of the high number of Roman Catholics in the city (around 90 percent of Poland’s population is Roman Catholic). On my second day in Poznan I witness the annual March of Equality which speaks out for the rights and freedoms of social minorities. The march is largely associated with the gay and lesbian communities here, something that has led to unrest in years past. I’m astounded by the level of policing on force; over 400 officers in protective gear, on horse back or sporting riot guns and pepper spray. A group of twenty or so police dogs bark hysterically at passers by as I have to remind myself I’m still in Europe. Later I hear everything went off peacefully, perhaps a sign that opinions are changing here as the country opens up to the wider world.

Escaping the tensions I explore Poznan’s Old Market Square and the many grand, historic buildings and statues to be admired. The Town Hall is an impressive mix of art and architecture, its spire towering above a swarm of tourists as they circle the square on the hunt for the perfect photograph. Following the swarm it’s evident that here is where the old and the new Poznan collide. The square with its painted tenement houses, colourful restaurants, hotels and swanky bars is a hotbed for tourism. These same buildings have been destroyed and rebuilt many times, but the optimistic bustle and chatter of the crowds in their many tongues suggests that the buildings have a solid future ahead of them. As the sun fades the square comes alive with fairy lights and as my breath hangs in the frosty air memories of Christmas spring to mind. A sudden urge for a drink takes me indoors to the Londoner Bar and I test my Polish on the eye-catching barmaids.

Not quite sure what anyone said during the conversation I retreat to a warm corner with what I think is vodka and soak up the atmosphere. It doesn’t take long before I begin chatting with a group of students at the next table. They laugh loudly at my poor attempt of the Polish language but seem genuinely impressed at my efforts. Adam, a twenty-two year old landscape architectural student asks what a Scotsman like myself is doing in Poznan. When I tell him I’m on holiday he seems a little confused by the concept, but happy that I’m here none the less. I’m grateful that the Polish are taught English at primary school as the conversation, and the vodka, is soon flowing. After an intense lesson on how to speak like a Poznanian Adam invites me to join his friends Dorea, Robert, Erika, Marta and Peter for a drink and I most obligingly follow them outside.

We soon arrive at an off-licence and after some communicative eyebrow raising Adam explains that this is a much cheaper way to drink in Poland. They are all students after all, so this is what they do, they buy drink and then they party. I like the way this is going.

It’s around freezing point and I’m walking briskly through the darkened streets of Poznan, bag of beer bottles clinking in hand with my new friend Peter, a fiery, politically minded student with the look of a bear about him. We’re having a discussion about Poland’s place in Europe and it’s evident that there are still some bitter feelings against the country’s neighbours. For Peter though, much of this is simply for show, something which has been passed down from previous generations. He can see past it and declares ‘I have many foreign friends from all over the world, even from Scotland!’ At this, Peter enthusiastically slaps me on the back and I nearly fall clean over, managing a warm smile as I regain my balance.

We arrive at what is claimed to be the group’s student accommodation, an imposing building which I’m told used to be a psychiatric hospital. Nice. Indeed, as we climb four flights of smelly stairs and pass through creaky old wooden swing doors we arrive at Erika’s dorm and our drinks are swiftly opened. The group take up residence in the hallway which resonates to the sound of intense discussion and explosive laughter. Adam takes the opportunity to quiz me on my travels. I tell him about my ‘gap year’ in which I travelled around the world and his eyes light up with the awe of a kid in a candy store. ‘You travelled all the way around the world!? How much did this cost?’ The sudden shift to economic matters takes me by surprise and when I give a rough outline to Adam he almost erupts.

After an erratic exchange of unknown words between Adam and the others he returns to me in calmed English, ‘I’m sorry, but you must understand… for us, this is IMPOSSIBLE. I could never imagine to do this.’ There is passion in Adam’s voice and a mix of anger and sorrow in his eyes. The tension is broken as Peter passes round a bottle of Wisniowka and we each take a swig. Adam goes on to explain that although it may seem strange, these are some of the best academics Poznan has to offer. They got to know each other not at university, but through working together at the local VW plant. Each month Adam pays for his course from the money he earns and sends some extra cash home to his parents when he can. The more we talk, the wider the gap appears between us, but there is no bitterness, quite the opposite. Adam is overjoyed that I am here talking, drinking, sharing this experience with them and we laugh at the thought of me coming on holiday and ending up sitting in the corridor of a mental hospital.

The party continues with more drinks, games, the song-full exchange of national anthems and neighbouring students join in the festivities. When the sky begins to redden I realise it’s time to go and we say our long goodbyes. I’m humbled by just how much we’ve all bonded in this one night together and as I leave I do hope we’ll meet again, perhaps next time in Scotland.

After a short sleep I wake, bleary eyed and prepare for the airport. I can’t help thinking about Adam and the others who seem to be having a tough time of it. I think about being a student in the UK and the thousands of young people who simply pack up and go for a year trekking through Thailand or sunning themselves in Australia. On the way to the bus station I take a different route through some backstreets. I walk past a row of old blackened tenement buildings, their facades stripped bare, ready for renovation. A section of the original stonework is still hanging on and you can clearly make out bullet holes, perhaps from the workers uprising in 1956 in which 100,000 demonstrators revolted against Russian oppression, eventually culminating in an advance from 10,000 troops and some 400 tanks. This resulted in the deaths of around 80 citizens, with hundreds more injured.

The past is heavy on my mind as I approach the station when my eye is drawn to the distinctive tower of the Poznan International Fair. The Fair is to host this year’s United Nations Conference on Climate Change, a grand opportunity for the city to achieve global recognition for forward thinking on the planets future. And suddenly I’m smiling. I know that the Poles have been through a lot in the past, but they have come through it all, hard working, passionate and fiercely patriotic. As I board my bus out of Poznan I’m no longer worried about Adam. I feel positive he, just like Poznan has a bright future ahead of him.

Written by Daniel Sweeney, escapeimages.com

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