Posts in December 2008

Friends Will Be Friends

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Basia’s comment about the whole przyjaciółka/koleżanka/relationship thing made me think. And she’s right, it IS a very nuanced thing, indeed.

In English I refer to approximately 1395 people as my “friends.” Yet, when talking to a Pole, about 1390 of those people are not “friends” (przyjaciółki) but “koleżanki/koledzy” or “znajome/znajomi” or “kumpelki/kumple” and so on. People that I could call “przyjaciółki/przyjaciele” (friends) in Polish are maybe 5 on a good day.

It’s been my impression that “przyjaźń” (friendship) is taken very seriously among Polish people. Friendship is not a word used lightly. To say that someone is your friend means you’ve probably known him since kindergarten and you’d give your last złoty for him, if needed.

Everybody else that you know who does not fit into that category is called either a “kolega” or “koleżanka.” This is a problematic word, because depending on who you’re talking about, it can be translated into English as either “friend” or “colleague.” Or even “mate,” “pal,” or if you know each other from school – “classmate.”
Basically, it’s the same as “friend” but you’ve met them later on in life and you’d rather keep your last złoty than use it to bail your “kolega” out of trouble.

And then you have “znajomy.” As a noun, it technically means “acquaintance” but it can come in all sorts of flavors, from a “kolega” with whom you lost touch to your favorite hairdresser. It’s a very broad word to describe all sorts of people who might not be close enough to be “koledzy” or “koleżanki.” But what I’ve also noticed is that older people sometimes feel silly to use “koledzy” or “koleżanki” when talking about people they know and prefer to refer to them as “znajomi.” It really depends. For example, a man wouldn’t be caught dead saying that a female co-worker is a “koleżanka z pracy” (a colleague from work.) He is more likely to say that she is a “znajoma z pracy.”

So, where does a “kumpel” fit into all this? Sideways and from both ends, I guess. Anybody can be a “kumpel.” In everyday parlance it can be used to describe anyone from a BFF to someone you occasionally see at dog shows. Technically speaking, it’s translated as “pal,” “buddy,” “mate” and other sorts of goofy words. And needless to say, that this being Polish means there is a female version too – “kumpela” or “kumpelka.”

It all looks and feels very intricate, but after a while you can easily determine to which category your friends belong.

Next time we’ll talk about relationships.
And here’s the grammar/vocabulary stuff: (I’ll add sound when I have a minute.)

  • przyjaźń (fem., pl. przyjaźnie) – friendship
  • przyjaciel (masc., pl. przyjaciele) – friend (male, or mixed when plural)
  • przyjaciółka (fem., pl. przyjaciółki) – friend (female)
  • kolega (masc., pl. koledzy) – colleague or some kind of friend, male or mixed when plural
  • koleżanka (fem., pl. koleżanki) – colleague or some kind of friend, female
  • znajomy (masc., pl. znajomi) – somebody you know, acquaintance, male or mixed when plural. To make it more difficult this word can also be used as an adjective, as in “znajomy mechanik” – a mechanic I know.
  • znajoma (fem., pl. znajome) – as above but female, and yes, it can also be used as an adjective, as in “znajoma fryzjerka” – a hairdresser (female) I know.
  • kumpel (masc., pl. kumple) – colloquially, anybody from a friend to somebody you know and hang out with from time to time, male or mixed when plural.
  • kumela or kumpelka (fem., pl. kumpele or kumpelki) – as above but female.
 

The Story Of NIP

Posted by Anna Ikeda

This post is not a rant, even though it may sound like one. I am simply attempting to explain the issue in a slightly irritated manner. Because I am slightly irritated right now. Numbers always do that to me.

Yes, we’ll talk about numbers today. Numbers of the official kind. In most civilized countries, and in a few uncivilized ones too, or at least in those countries I’m familiar with, the governments make do with only one number. Some call it a social security number, some – a personal number, ID number, or what not. You know what it is and how to use it. And you use it for many different things, from getting a cell phone contract to paying your taxes. Simple, easy and efficient. One number to rule them all.

I quite like this system. Being the kind of person who has a hard time remembering her own birth date, I am more than happy with just one number to deal with. At least one number per country. Any more than that and I run into trouble.

Well, things are not so simple, easy and efficient in Poland. First, there is PESEL. PESEL stands for “Powszechny Elektroniczny System Ewidencji Ludności” which is basically a very fancy name for a personal ID number. Every Pole has one. Most Poles born after 1975, even if born abroad, have PESELs. No PESEL, no other documents. You need it for getting an ID card, or a driver’s license, or a passport. You need it for pretty much everything, everywhere. You get this number automatically, and boom, there it is. It consists of your date of birth – year (two digits), month and day plus five additional numbers. One of them signifies your sex, and I’m pretty sure that others also have some secret meaning.

And then there’s NIP. The bane of my existence. Numer Identyfikacji Podatkowej, which is a boring Polish name for a tax ID number. And as the name indicates, you use it for paying your taxes.

Getting one is the hard part. Normally, your employer must apply for it for you when you get a job. But what to do when you don’t have a permanent job? When you work as a freelancer, who doesn’t have a sole proprietorship or any other type of company? I cringe at the very thought. I’ve heard of stories that people were simply able to fill out the appropriate application form, went to the Tax Office (Urząd Skarbowy) and sorted themselves a NIP without any problems. But those are almost urban legends. I’ve never met a person who actually managed to accomplish this feat, it was always a friend of a friend’s cousin’s next door neighbor who did it.

I had a lot less luck when dealing with the Tax Office. The sour-faced lady at Pierwszy Urząd Skarbowy in Gdansk took one look at my application and said “no” without any further explanations. When asked “why” she pointed with her pen to window number 2.

The sour-faced lady at window number 2 took one look at my application and said “no employer information, no NIP.” When asked about freelancers, she said “not my problem. No employer details, no NIP” with that special tone of voice that meant “are you dumb or something?

I asked her to explain it to me once again using simple words of no more than 2 syllables. And the story went like this:

If you are a freelancer, you still need your “employer” to fill out and stamp the form in order to be issued a NIP.

When I pointed out that this arrangement sort of defies the idea of working freelance, the sour-faced lady kindly answered, “so get a normal job and don’t bother me. Next!

Luckily, I know someone who has a company and was willing to support my NIP application by acting as my employer. But all this leads me to believe that since Poland makes it so difficult to get a tax ID number, the government is not really interested in collecting those taxes. A very curious country indeed.

So what happened next? Instead of issuing me a NIP, the Tax Office lost my application. Arrgh!

 

Meldunek

Posted by Anna Ikeda

I don’t remember if I’ve already told you this but I’ve been trying to establish myself in Poland. You know, doing stuff like getting a Polish address (meldunek), ID card (dowód osobisty) and all that bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo. And compared to other countries, I have to say that the Polish system is quite complicated. The biggest challenge so far has been the “meldunek.”
What is this “meldunek”? It’s a leftover from the communist days - basically a law that requires every citizen and resident in Poland to have a registered domicile somewhere. And of course, the government needs to be notified where that domicile is. There are two types of “meldunek” – permanent (pobyt stały) and temporary (pobyt czasowy). The permanent kind is noted on a person’s national ID card (dowód osobisty), though you can also get an ID card without a permanent address.

My first ID card was like that – it simply said “brak” (none) in the space asking for my address. Most Polish citizens who live abroad and don’t maintain addresses in Poland have “brak” written on their ID cards, too. It simply means that we don’t have a “meldunek” in Poland. And I guess if you are a homeless person, you’d have “brak” on there too, but then I’m not so sure if homeless people bother to update their ID cards.

Now, if you plan to have an official (permanent) domicile in Poland, you need to register it with the government. Normally, it’s done with one of the sour-faced ladies at City Hall. You go there, fill out a paper, sign that paper, the owner of the place where you want to live needs to bring appropriate documents confirming that he/she indeed owns the place, the owner signs the paper you filled out too, and together you go to City Hall to register your new address. Assuming you don’t have a previous address in Poland, you don’t need to do anything else. If you had a previous address somewhere you would need to de-register
yourself first at the old place, and then register yourself at your new place. That registration is called “meldunek” and when you are doing it, you “meldujesz się” – you register yourself.

Once you have your permanent meldunek, you need to put that address on your national ID card (only citizens get those, foreigners get some other type of card). Though I read somewhere that starting next April this will no longer be required. Even if you register yourself at a new place, you will only need to notify the Tax without getting a new ID card. But don’t hold me to it, things tend to change rather quickly in Poland. For all I know, next year we might have to leave our fingerprints and give a stool sample when
changing the “meldunek.”
Anyway, last month I got my meldunek in Gdańsk. I applied for a new dowód osobisty, too. And some weeks after that, I got a very nice letter. My very first letter to my new address. It came from the Prezydent Miasta Gdańska (the mayor of Gdańsk), Mr. Paweł Adamowicz. The guy wrote to welcome me to the city and wish me health, professional successes and happiness in my personal life. A very silly thing but it made me smile. It was a nice gesture.

And needless to say, the letter began with “Szanowna Pani.” LOL!

 

Mikołajki

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Until last week, when Pinolona kindly reminded me about it, I had totally forgotten about Mikołajki. Maybe because it wasn’t really a big occasion at our house when I was little. Or rather, it was a non-occasion. I vaguely recall getting chocolates from my grandma, or maybe a new toy, or a book, and I vaguely recall that this could have happened sometime around December 6th. But then again, I always got candies from my grandma, or books, or other cute little things, because that’s what grandmas are for, right? They come to visit and they bring you gifts. No Święty Mikołaj needed.

Ah yes, Święty Mikołaj! Let’s get back on track here, shall we?

So, according to the catholic calendar, December 6th is the day of Saint Nicholas, which would be English for Święty Mikołaj. And somehow, in the Polish tradition, December 6th is a day (well, one of the days, really) when little kids are supposed to get little gifts. Little gifts, because the heavy-duty gifts are saved for Christmas, naturally.

Hence, December 6th is called Mikołajki. You’re supposed to clean and shine your shoes the night before, and if you’ve been a good kid, you will find something nice in them the next morning. And that means I better start shining my shoes if I want to get any gifts tomorrow.

Then of course, Mikołaj does another round of gift deliveries at Christmas, or rather, on Christmas Eve as is traditional in Poland. Poor guy, he really gets a workout.

Visually, he resembles Santa Claus, except for some areas of Kaszuby and Wielkopolska, where he morphs into another persona known as Gwiazdor and carries a stick to beat naughty kids. For the good ones he brings gifts, of course.

Here is an interesting article about this Święty Mikołaj vs Gwiazdor issue, unfortunately only in Polish.

And as for me, I don’t care that much who brings my gifts. Mikołaj, Santa Claus, Gwiazdor or Hogfather, it’s all good, as long as my presents get here safely and on time.

;)

 

Mazurek Dąbrowskiego - Polish National Anthem

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Yesterday I had a very interesting, if a bit odd conversation with one of my friends. The friend in question is also very interesting, if a bit odd, and I suppose that goes a long way towards explaining her strange musical hobbies. Anyway, she walked up to me, hugged me and said: “I really love your national song!”
Anna’s response: “huh? Come again?”
Friend: “It’s so vibrant and…”
Anna: “You mean, the national anthem of Poland?”
Friend: “And it makes me want to be energetic and proud.”
Anna (mostly to herself): “Are we really having this conversation?”
Friend: “Of course not as proud as the Russian one, but that’s OK, because the Polish one is more… more…”
Anna: “More what?”
Friend: “Hopscotchy.”

And with that she disappeared into her office, humming under her nose what I think was supposed to be “Mazurek Dąbrowskiego.”

Until yesterday, I didn’t even know there were people out there who collected different versions of national anthems from various countries. And until yesterday, I didn’t even think that the Polish anthem was anything special. And not just any special – hopscotchy special.

Of course, she meant the upbeat melody of the lively mazurka that’s our national song. It really does make you want to get up and dance. And it’s because it was meant to be cheerful and uplifting. You see, when it was written back in 1797, two years after the Third Partition of Poland, people were gloomy and depressed. And the soldiers that were serving in the Polish Legions under General Jan Henryk Dąbrowski were even more depressed. So, they needed a happy song to boost their morale and cheer them up. And boy, did they need cheering up. The Polish Legions were part of the French Revolutionary Army, which was led by Napoleon Bonaparte in his conquest of Italy. You get the picture now, right?

So the happy song was needed to remind the soldiers that even though the country of Poland had ceased to exist, the idea of Poland had not. As you can imagine, it soon became a hugely popular patriotic song, and then when Poland did reappear on the map of Europe, the song was officially adopted as the national anthem in 1926.

The lyrics were written by a Polish poet Józef Wybicki. He wasn’t just any poet – he was also a general and a political figure. But you have to admit, the man had a way with words. The lyrics are quite simple, but oddly powerful. I just read the whole thing on the internet, because as most Poles, I only know the first verse by heart.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to sing it, other can do it much, much better. The English translation (based on translations of Davies and Kendall) is below.

Poland has not perished yet
So long as we still live
That which alien force has seized
We at sabrepoint shall retrieve

March, march, Dąbrowski
From Italy to Poland
Let us now rejoin the nation
Under thy command

Cross the Vistula and Warta
And Poles we shall be
We’ve been shown by Bonaparte
Ways to victory

March, march…

Like Czarniecki Poznań regains
Fighting with the Swede,
To free our fatherland from chains
We shall return by sea

March, march…

Father, in tears
Says to his Basia
Just listen, it seems that our people
Are beating the drums

March, march…