Posts tagged w/ History

Kombinowanie continued

Posted by Anna Ikeda

So, let’s go back to the issue of kombinowanie for a few more minutes. Turns out that the person who claims that Poles are a cheating, scheming and otherwise dishonest bunch also reads this blog. Oh, hi! Small world, isn’t it? Thank you for providing us with such an interesting discussion topic!

And to another reader - thank you for pointing out the fact that I didn’t explain the really first thing first about this word. So, in order to rectify that oversight from the other day, here it is:

  • kombinowanie (noun, neuter, plural: kombinowania, though I don’t think many people would use the plural form) – and that’s the noun version of kombinować.
  • kombinować (verb, imperfective; the perfective form would be wykombinować) – wangle, maneuver, get things sorted out, cheat, scheme, arrange something, etc…

And here are some examples of kombinowanie that should be easy to grasp (even for my very honest American readers, wink wink).

Personally, I have seen tons and tons of kombinowanie in the US. Heck, you want to see kombinowanie as an artform the American way, then go to any jury selection process and see how people kombinują to get out of performing their civic duty.

Another example of kombinowanie is trying to get a reasonably priced sublet apartment in Manhattan. That’s when kombinowanie turns ruthless, even by Polish standards. Anything goes (short of murder, but then again, who knows?) – lying, cheating, scheming and bribe giving (and a few other things that I shouldn’t mention on a PG-13 blog).

But I think that basically kombinowanie starts in school, and that’s a proven fact the world over. Proven how? Show me a bunch of 13 or 14 or 15 year olds who are NOT trying to get out of some undesirable school activities by any means necessary and you’ll see a bunch of witless pushovers.

So, actually, I don’t think that the totalitarian regime of the communist days had much to do with the Polish kombinowanie way of life. If you read how those really ancient guys like Mieszko and Chrobry got to be princes and kings and otherwise mighty and powerful guys, then it’s obvious that kombinowanie (and this time definitely including murder) has been with us, Poles, for a lot longer than the last 50 or 60 years. In fact, you can even say it’s kept us alive through the centuries, it’s helped us survive wars and other calamities.

And what happened if we ended up stuck (no doubt of a result of kombinowanie of other powers) with a witless wonder of a ruler who couldn’t kombinować even if the very survival of his country depended on it and concentrated on building pretty palaces instead? Like Stanisław August Poniatowski, for example? Everybody knows.

So yes, kombinowanie may be our way of life, and I don’t think it’s more prevalent in Poland than in other countries (it seems to me that in Asia and South America it’s physically impossible to get anything done without some very skillful kombinowanie). We are just a lot more honest about admitting to actually doing it.

PS. Do you still see any goofy computer language in my posts on this blog? I am using a new computer and a new internet provider (microwave wireless something something) and I hope there will be no more glitches.

 

Druga Wojna Światowa - World War 2

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Yesterday Poland observed the 70th anniversary of the start of WW2. I wasn’t going to write about it initially, but then I realized it would look very stupid and almost un-Polish if I didn’t mention it at all. Yet on the other hand, talking about WW2 makes me a bit uncomfortable. Why? I feel this is something that should stay in history books, and rehashing every year what had happened is kind of pointless.

Yet on the other hand (this would be my third hand, or a prosthetic arm maybe), remembering what had happened is very important. And so I’m torn. I don’t want to talk about WW2, but I feel it’s my responsibility to do so anyway.

WW2 is a fact that cannot be changed (even though some would like to try), but it’s a fact whose details even after all these years are being disputed. And no, I’m talking here about Holocaust deniers, but about the Polish and Russian versions and interpretations of the events from 70 years ago.

This story has been re-written so many times and on so many occasions, that by now I don’t even want to attempt to guess what is REALLY true. And I’m not sure that at this point many Poles actually care. It seems to me that we, as a nation, have moved on and it’s only our politicians that still insist on talking about it while fuming with righteous anger.

Remembering the past is important, but learning from it even more so, because that’s how the past influences our future. And it seems to me that way too many Polish politicians are so stuck in the past that they totally miss the “future” bit of this equation. It’s been our national disease since the times of Mieszko. To the powers that be our nation’s past (whether glorious or not) has always been more important than what’s ahead, and needless to say, this attitude has done nothing to help us win friends and influence (foreign) people. And from what I’m reading in Gazeta Wyborcza, it sounds like Mr. Tusk agrees with me. He said, “On the other hand, becoming preoccupied with the past isn’t good either.” Unfortunately, this is what I see happening in our country right now.

See? This is precisely why I should never write about politics and Polish foreign policy on this blog.

So here are some somber words to learn:

  • druga wojna światowa – WW2
  • druga – second. Since “wojna” is a feminine noun, instead of “drugi”, we have “druga” which is the feminine version of this ordinal number.

In Polish wars don’t merely start but explode. We say that “wojna wybuchła” – literally – a war exploded, just like a bomb would. and hence we would have:

  • wybuch drugiej wojny światowej - the start of WW2
 

The Question of Prussia

Posted by Anna Ikeda

A few weeks ago one of the readers made a comment about Prussia. A family member of hers claimed to have Prussian ancestry, not Polish. Personally, I find this statement a bit odd, but that’s just me, OK?

Prussia, Prusy in Polish (a.k.a. Germany, or one of its many incarnations) was a neighbor of Poland for many, many centuries. Eventually, on August 5, 1772, it added a big chunk of Poland to its own territory.

Remember the Partitions (rozbiory)? Well, that’s when it happened. Russia and Austria got a nice piece each, too.

You see, Prussia was very oddly shaped – there was East Prussia and West Prussia. And between them was a bit of Poland. Of course they didn’t like it, and as soon as they got a chance, they took care of that issue – by adding the Polish territory to their own.


click on the map to make it bigger

Here, on the map you can see how Poland disappeared. The white area bordered by all the blue and the see – that’s East Prussia. The darker blue area to the left of that – that used to be Poland. The slightly less dark blue area under the dark blue area used to be Poland, too. That chunk went to Prussia during the second partition.

So unless someone’s ancestors came from the white bit of East Prussia, or the white area to the left of the blue pieces – West Prussia, I’m not sure just how Prussian they could be otherwise.

If I remember correctly, I also have a bunch of relatives who claimed Prussian ancestry. They spoke German and had goofy German last names. And during communist times they all emigrated to West Germany.

It just goes to show you that Poles come in all different flavors.
Yet for some very odd reason it’s more common for certain Poles from the Prussian part of Poland (after the Partitions) to say they are of Prussian origin than for Poles from the Russian part to admit to Russian origin.

This post is in no way intended to stir controversy. It was simply to show you how Poland ceased to exist. Geographically, that is.

Image: Wikipedia

 

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…

 

September 1st in Polish History

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Today is September 1st and if you ask any Polish kid about its significance, they will give you a blank stare as an answer. I’ve just tried it.
It was a bit different in my days. Now, I don’t know what they teach you about the starting date of WW2 (druga wojna światowa) in your countries, but in Poland it’s generally understood that the war started on September 1, 1939.

Unfortunately, when I was a high school student this sad anniversary was normally overshadowed by a more immediate, also sad event, which was the beginning of a school year. Which, incidentally, also took place on September 1st.

And this is what I remember from my high school history classes:
Something something Czechoslovakia, Hitler, something something… stuff happened, blah blah.
On September 1st, 1939 at 4:45AM the German battleship “Schleswig Holstein” started to shell the Polish garrison on Westerplatte. It was the beginning of Hitler’s invasion of Poland and the beginning of WW2.
Westerplatte, despite its very German-sounding name, was the location of a Polish Military Transit Depot (WST), sanctioned within the territory of the Free City of Danzig (now Gdańsk). 180 Polish soldiers under the command of Major Henryk Sucharski defended their position for seven days against overwhelming odds. When they finally surrendered, Maj. Sucharski, as a sign of respect from the German dude in charge, was allowed to keep his officer’s sword while being taken prisoner.
Blah blah blah, France blah blah blah England… the Soviet Army… blah… more stuff happened. WW2 was gaining momentum.

I’m ashamed to admit that even though I lived quite nearby Gdańsk and Westerplatte, I never visited the site. These days it’s a touristy place with a museum and monuments, and that sort of thing.

One September 1st my high school organized a field trip to Westerplatte to participate in the memorial ceremonies, which were held there annually. And here, I’m again ashamed to admit that instead of going there like all good students should, together with a friend we decided to skip it. We went to a musical instrument store instead, where we played guitars and drums for most of the day. And then of course, we lied about it. What can I say? It was the 80s. We wanted to be rock stars.

photo: Wikipedia. Major Sucharski surrenders.