He Hath Come

As the British were quite confused and a little amazed that Royal Fever caught on in the States before the Royal Wedding, I too stood a little confused at the general excitement that President Obama was coming to visit.  I've referred to Obama several times in this blog (only in jokes, actually), but this is the first time I'll take a semi-serious crack at what it means.  In reality, it means almost nothing.  He was here for twenty-two hours, and during that time parts of the city were shut down.  Obama's visit came when Poland is holding the rotating EU presidency, and the general feeling in Europe and around the globe is that Poland really is one of the few countries in the world (in more so in Europe) that has its shit together.  Just look at the comparison between Poland and Ukraine for readiness for the EuroCup.

Granted, not all Poles were enthusiastic about Obama's visit.  To them, it meant that several important arteries were going to be blocked off for three hours at a time, making it so they couldn't get home after work.  But, to others, it meant that the most powerful man in the world was gracing Poland with his presence at long last.  (NOTE:  The Poles were snubbed when Obama failed to show at the Kaczyncy's funeral, choosing to go golfing instead (that volcano eruption was to blame.))  The Poles have long felt that the US has ignored them for a long time and not lived up to its end of the deals (Iraq, Afghanistan.)  They saw this as an opportunity for Obama to set things right.

He gave vague promises that the visa restrictions for Poland would be lifted; he praised Polish democracy (something the Germans would never do (this is a joke for those who don't get it.  Look up what a 'Polish Parliament" is.)); he pointed his finger and Byelarus, a country no one particularly cares about, and said that they muffed things up; he also said/did some other things I have not recounted on this page.

Overall, I'm pretty bummed I missed out on a chance to see the VC-25, but I did get to see a snazzy C-17 that preceded the visit (no picture, sorry.)

My Odyssey Through the Ukrainian Metropolises and Hinterlands

For those who haven't gone through the ritual of getting a residency permit renewed, it can be a total bitch.  Recently, I had to embark on a journey to Ukraine, the nearest non-Schengen country that didn't require me to obtain a visa to visit.  I was told by the Foreigners' Urzad (bureau/office) that I needed to leave Poland on or before the 31st (the date of expiration for my current residency permit) and come back no sooner that the 1st of April.  So, I chose to go to Ukraine.

Long before I had even started out, people were warning me about how it wasn't the best idea to drive to Ukraine.  Numerous people stressed that going by car was dangerous and a long long wait.  They told me how I'd probably have to bribe the guards; that the line of traffic to cross the border was miles long and would take hours (days even!) to go through; that going by bus was faster and safer; and that I might end up in a holding cell somewhere. I passed it all off as typical hysteria by people who had never even crossed the border themselves, not even to go to Lwów (actually, one person had done that, and by car.)

So, we started out from Warsaw at 8:00 PM, heading towards the eastern border with Ukraine (about a 3.5-hour drive or 155 miles.)  We went first through Lublin, and then to Chelm (Hkhe-weh-mmm).  The drive was pretty uneventful, but at night so it's not like I could enjoy the passing Polish countryside.  We only stopped once at a gas station to put oil in the car and for my companion to buy a Coke.  We did pass a big industrial site near the border that was full of lights, and I surmised it might be a gas facility for the pipelines that cross Ukraine from Russia.  I dug a little deeper (later) and found that no gas pipeline crosses from Ukraine to Poland, only from Belarus to Poland.

We got to the border crossing at 11:30.  About three miles from the border station we start seeing all these trucks pulled over to the side of the road.  Three miles of parked trucks on the side of the road later, we pulled within 'sight' of the Polish customs station.  The only problem is there is a huge line (several hours' wait) and I need to get a stamp saying that I left the territory of the Republic of Poland before midnight.  There was a lane for buses and diplomatic traffic, and we tried that, but we were stopped by a border guard acting as traffic controller (you know those red cone-like wands air traffic controllers use?  He had one of those.)  So my companion is arguing with the guy, telling him my sob story and they guy just isn't having it and is becoming obviously annoyed.  So we turn around, and park in a pretty seedy looking parking lot nearby and start hoofing it on foot.

We walk back up to the traffic guy, who immediately tells us we can't just 'go for a walk' to the border station (about hundred yards away.)  My friend is just pestering the guy, like seriously pestering him, and the controller is just becoming exasperated.  We break off a little bit and ask a man in a truck (in the front of the line) how long he would have to wait, to which he replied "three hours."  That wasn't going to do.  Meanwhile, the traffic controller is telling cars to go through, but one of the drivers has fallen asleep at the wheel and the controller has to shine his flashlight into the window and knock on the guys windshield.  My friend again goes up to the guy and basically they work out that we can get in someone's car (at the front) and we can go to the station.  The controller talks to a guy in a small red VW Golf, and we get into his car.  There's a moment where we sit in there wondering what we're supposed to do (the driver included), and we're thinking, "Can we go?"  The controller looks at us and beckons angrily with his wand shouting a very exasperated "JEDŹ!" ("DRIVE!")  So, we drive up to the border control station and exit the car.  It's about 11:45 or so right now, and my companion immediately starts laying into some guard there, telling them my story, what needs to happen, what we're doing.  The guard is about as happy as the traffic guy, and he takes my passport, then passes us off to another guard.  The second guard may have been drunk, sleepy, or born a little to slow (or maybe any mix of the previous), but he definitely didn't have his shit together.  My friend starts trying to urge him, and he replies, irritated, "We still have eight minutes [before midnight]".

From the back seat of the nice fellow's Golf, heading into the guard station.

He carried my passport loosely in his hand, fumbling with his keys to get the door open to the guard booth.  He didn't have the key, so he walks back to the other office to get it and returns to open the door, take our documents, and cautiously go over mine, but also starts turning on the computer in the booth.  Another guard comes and together they leave to the other guard house, with my companion in tow.  The minutes tick by and it's past midnight, but they return.  My companion starts asking about what stamp they put in my passport, which they said, grumpily, "The 31st!".  I look at the stamped page in my passport and indeed it says that I left the Republic of Poland on 31-3-2011.  My companion let out a triumphant "Hurrah!"

The driver fellow, with whom we've been talking a bit, turns out to be a Ukrainian and quite pleasant.  He's passed through this border many times (poor him) and gives us plenty of information.  We ask the border guard if we can just go across to the opposite border station and re-enter Poland, and he replies, "No.  You must continue to Ukraine."  He gives a slip to the driver that says the car is clean and is carrying three passengers.

Now, this slip will become important later, because at another checkpoint right down the road, another guard will look at the slip, count the passengers, and wave the car on (and if you don't have the said-amount of passengers, you might just be in trouble.)

Anyway, we speed over the bridge and over the Bug River and pass into Ukraine.

The Ukrainian border station is exactly as you think it would be.  It looks like it hasn't changed since Soviet times, and the border guards are brusque and fit the exact stereotype of what you think a Ukrainian, Russian, or Belorussian border guard would be like.  They have the military fatigues and little fur hats with an Ukrainian emblem pin in the center.

We hand them our passports and start explaining things to an incredulous border guard.  Now, in my passport photo, I have long hair (it was taken five years ago), and now my hair is of more 'normal' length.  The border guard doesn't like this very much and stares at me for a very long time.  He starts barking questions in rapid, accented Polish, to which I can only say a little.  When my companion tries helping me, the guard tells him, "I didn't ask you, I asked him."  We explain about the stamp I need, and that we intend to leave Ukraine as soon as possible.  But, he's having a really hard time with my passport photo, so I hand him my (now-expired) karta pobytu (residency/identification card), in which I have a shaved head.  The guard exclaims something along the lines of "What's with your hair?!!!"  He left, then came back with another slightly older guard; he began flipping my passport under a black light to test for authenticity, then handed it to the new guard, who took and stared at it then at my face for no less than five minutes.  I had to practically stick my head into the window while the examined my face, then my passport and karta pobytu.  They began flipping through my passport again and asking me questions in a sharp pointed manner, stopping on my expired German visa.  They asked me questions like, what was I doing in Germany, when did I leave Germany, how long did I stay, all in a gruff, accusatory tone.  Finally, they stamp my passport and hand back all our identity documents.  My companion raids my wallet, saying that the 100zl bill I have there is too much, and grabs thirty zlotych and gives it to the driver.  The driver hops into his Golf and speeds off into the night.

The entire time I was there, I'm fighting the urge to pull out my camera and start snapping pictures.  But, my saner head prevails saying, "This is not the best time nor place to start photographing."  I still was able to snap a few dark pictures, which I had to edit a little to bring out any detail.

The guard exits the booth and we follow him into the main office.  This time, I wasn't sure what exactly was going on and I was thinking, "OK, they're probably going to search us and stuff."

We marched after the guard (and he walks exactly as you think he would walk) through a hallway and out into the checkpoint for people leaving Ukraine for Poland.  He walked right up to another booth, took our passports and immediately began explaining things to the guard in the booth.  They had great fun as they started laughing, also noting that my name is that of Michael Jordan's (a common thing here.)  There are burly Ukrainians swarming up around the booth.  The guard picked one, who was driving a large white commercial van, and basically said to him, "You're going to drive them across the border."  The poor guy wasn't too pleased about it, but before he could do anything the guard marked on his slip of paper that the van contained three passengers, forcing the man to take us at least to the final Ukrainian checkpoint, where another guard would scan the slip and count the persons in the vehicle.

So, we followed the man to the van and he cleared a whole bunch of shit off his front seats (it had three front seats) and he let us in.  Then he demanded to see our passports (who knows why!) and he examined each one by flipping through them.  While he was going through mine, I thought I might have to buy it back from him with the remaining 100zl bill I have.  That, or I might have to stab him, but one thing is certain:  I was getting my passport back.  He gave them both back.  Then, he drove as far as the duty free shop to buy some stuff (probably food for the continuing wait), then drove to the last check point, where the guard shined his flashlight into the cab of the van counting, "One, two, three.  OK."  And we drove another fifty yards before hitting another traffic jam.  We got out and thanked the hapless fellow for taking us this far and began to walk.

Crossing the Bug

I must admit, it was pretty cool walking across the bridge and the Bug (the actual border of the two countries.)  The entire road was bumper-to-bumper vehicles, all of them with Ukrainian plates.  There were cars, trucks, and vans. Cars with trailers containing what looked like whatever was rustled from an antique dealer's dumpster.  The cars themselves looked as if they were held together solely because their bolts had rusted into an indiscernible mass, and they were running on little more than a prayer (the icons that were present in almost every car couldn't have done any harm.)  Almost every car looked like some mechanic's nightmare (or wet dream).  The whole place smelled like burning rubber, burning oil, and unburned gasoline.  The average age of the cars there had to be no less than twenty years.

Crossing the Bug, see the cars.

We walked to another traffic controller, who told us that we could not walk to the border station, so we simply asked to fellows in a blue van.  They obliged and carried us as far as the station, where we got out and began to look for a booth to get stamped.  We wandered around for a bit, asking a border guard, who told us that we had to be in a vehicle to be processed; he suggested getting on one of the buses just for the ride over.  We tried two buses, but no luck.  We loitered a bit, then headed back to the line of cars, finally asking two Ukrainians in a white sedan if we could ride with them to be processed.  They agreed, so we hopped in and they drove twenty yards up and pulled over.  Everyone hopped out, leaving all doors open, popping the trunk and letting the Polish border guards search the vehicle and take our passports.  We got back in again and my companion and the two guys talked a bit.  It turned out that they had waited in line for ten hours and they were crossing the border to work unloading freight trucks.  The 2012 EuroCup was discussed, and I was forced again to listen to Ukrainian techno-pop on the radio.  I noticed that the procedure for examining cars went something like this:  A line of about eight cars pulled up and stopped.  Then, each car was inspected, started from the back of the line.  Once the front car was inspected, the cars would all drive off and another line would pull up.  We sat for maybe twenty minutes until the guards came back and we all had to jump out again, they searched the car (even popping the hood), then gave us back our passports and we drove off, handing the slip of paper to the last checkpoint, a female guard who counted the passengers of the car.  The lads were obliging enough to drop us off the entrance of the parking lot where we had left almost exactly two hours earlier.

I was surprised with all the burdensome processes involved in crossing the border.  For instance: the fact that every single car was inspected.  I was told later that this is mostly done to lock down on smuggling, specifically cigarettes.  One can buy a pack of cigarettes in Ukraine for about sixty cents, then take it to Poland and sell it for a greatly inflated price.  But Poland isn't usually the destination for cigarettes, because if you can make it to France of even England you can make a tidy profit.  As we were getting into our car in the parking lot, some man walked up to us holding a plastic grocery bag full of cigarettes trying to sell us them.  We drove away, and didn't even have to pay a parking fee; the parking attendant just let us ago.

A shot from the parking lot, looking at the border station, as we were about to leave.

And so, we drove back towards Warsaw, past all those trucks parked one after another on the side of the road.  About a half hour later, the rain came.  We arrived in Warsaw around 5 am, my usual waking time, and I got to get home, eat a small breakfast then head off to work.  I was in the Foreigners Urzad (office/bureau) by 11:00AM, passing in photocopies of my newly-stamped passport.  The lady accepting them was confused by the stamps that said I left Poland on the 31st, but arrived in Ukraine on the 1st, then left Ukraine on the 1st.  I said, "It was at midnight."  She nodded, then stamped the photocopies, accepted them and bid good day.

Plane Crash: After Effects: The Results

It is undeniable that Saturday's plane crash robbed Poland part of the cream of the Polish Government and military. Regardless of your opinions of those who died (and if you consider them the 'cream'), there were many high-ranking casualties in all areas of the Government. The numero uno of them all, Lech Kaczynski, will be laid to rest this coming Saturday. His body will lie in State on Tuesday for two days.

Krakowskie Przedmiescie has been turned into a pedestrian zone.

Yesterday, Sunday, the body of Kaczynski came back to Poland. A motorcade wound its way through the city and ended at the Presidential Palace. Personally, I missed the entire thing, not aware what was happening. I did hear the two blasts of sirens, one marking when the plane crashed, and the other at noon for a moment of silence. The remainders of the other victims are apparently still in Russia, awaiting identification before they are returned.

A side street off Krakowskie Przedmiescie. A mourner lights and leaves a candle in the growing collection.

Poles have been noting the actions of Russia, particularly their prime minister and de facto tsar, Vladimir Putin. Putin declared himself head of the investigation into the incident, while sock puppet Medvedev, made a passionate speech. Russia declared a nation day of mourning and told relatives of the deceased that they could come to Moscow to identify the bodies and take them home, with Russia footing the bill.

This all comes at a crucial time for Russia, which has been rocked with a sour economy and protests, which have been violently quashed. The turmoil in Kyrgyzstan has been blamed on the Russian-back opposition. Recent bombings in Moscow leave questions to whether Russia can provide safety to things such as the 2014 Sochi Olympics, plus they bring unwanted attention on the horrific situation that still festers in the Caucus Region (something Russia would like to sweep under the rug if it could.) Russia stands to polish (pun intended) its image abroad as conciliatory, supportive, and sympathetic. I even heard that Russian state TV played the movie Katyn unedited.

Remembrance candles burning in front of the Presidential Palace.

The investigation has not been concluded, but it seems that pilot error was the main reason. Many people question why so many VIPs were flying in one plane. The Polish Government had wanted to buy more newer planes for official use, but budget concerns made them think otherwise. It would not look good (especially in an election year) to buy a fleet of new planes while the rest of the world is in a recession. People still might remember Obama nixing a fleet of twenty-eight new helicopters (price tag: $11 billion) as something analogous.

Poland itself has been trying to trash its Soviet-built aircraft. It recently acquired a whole fleet of F-16s, with hopes of buying the JSF F-35 as well. LOT flies an almost-exclusive Boeing fleet (with some ATR and Embraer planes) and is the European launch customer for the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. It makes a point to advertise its Boeing fleet, and for a while boasted about the 787 on the front page of its website.

A scout offers water to the crowd.

A scout takes a mourner's candle to place it with the others.

Part of the city of light in front of the Presidential Palace.

Foreign TV personalities (the nearest one was French.)

Well, what I did head downtown yesterday, I was simply awestruck. It wasn't just the crush of people in front of the Presidential Palace or the seas of candles that were growing like some sort of amoeba or colony (or even that there were more roses than Valentine's Day); it was the sellers of such products. Well, there are always a LOT of flower sellers in Poland. They are at almost every subway stop. BUT, I didn't even know that Warsaw had this amount of candles on hand. They are all the church candles (you see them particularly in cemeteries) enclosed in red glass. Hawkers have pallets and pallets of them (plus, where did all the Polish flags come from? Who has this amount of paraphernalia on hand? Probably kept in storage in anticipation for the Euro Cup.)

Krakowskit Przedmiescie has been closed off to traffic (aside from government cars and police/emergency vehicles.) Crowds of people stream in both directions. The thickness of the crowd leads to some pushiness (I can still feel the hand of a dzialka on my left should blade has he essentially pushed me through the throng.) Even though there's a great mass of people, it's not as loud as one would think (I'm used to gatherings greater than forty people shouting "Yankees Suck!") Most people converse in hushed tones, leaving the crying of babies to ring clear.

In front of the Presidential Palace, the crowd was pressed tight. Some small tents covered TV crews and international media personalities. Bouquets were lashed to light poles, and a few ever-growing pools of candles dotted the streets. Directly in front of the Palace, tens of thousands of candles flickered. When a gust of breeze blew across them, it hit the crowd with a sooty warmth. Scouts kept the crowd a bay; when people brought up candles or flowers, they handed them to the scouts, who would place them amongst the ocean of light. Every so often, a scout would walk past handing out free water. Sometimes a scout would come with a trash bag and pick up all the extinguished candles, but this hardly made a dent in the great collection. Journalists and photographers held free reign and went about, unmolested by authorities, in search of epic and solemn shots. Those amongst the crowds touted their own high-priced equipment, snapping photos at every instance.

At Pilsudski Square, more oceans of candles lay around half-masted flags, the giant cross, and the Tomb of Unknown Soldier. The largest one was at the cross, where a few old women led the surrounding crowd in prayer, reciting Hail Marys (I think they were doing the whole rosary.)

Some babci lead the crowd in prayer.

Poles gather and reflect near the forest of candles.

The Poles expect a large amount of foreign heads of state and dignitaries to come to Warsaw for Lech Kaczynski's funeral. They even explicitly hoped for Obama's arrival (personally, I think just Biden will show up, but we'll see.)

Plane Crash

The Katyn Anniversary just got a bit more tragic.

I just received a text message mentioning a "plane catastrophe." Not knowing what it was, I did a preliminary sweep of some news aggregates, and discovered that the President of Poland, Lech Kaczynski, and an entire Polish delegation may have perished in a plane crash near Smolensk.

They were flying to Smolensk to honor the 70th anniversary of the Katyn massacre.

It seems that there were a number of VIPs, including the Kaczynskis (husband and wife), the governor of the central bank, the last President of Poland in Exile (Ryszard Kaczorowski), and the army chief of staff. The Tu-154 (another victory for Russian aerospace) carrying the President and his entourage crashed while approaching to land at Smolensk Airport. It seems the plane hit the tops of the trees while trying to land in foggy weather and disintegrated. Preliminary reports said that 130 people could have perished in the crash out of 132 passengers, but hopes for any survivors are slim. Recent reports put the toll at 97, with there being no survivors.

The reaction in Poland is sure to be one of mourning and probably a bit of anger. The people haven't forgotten Sikorski's crash near Gibraltar, and I bet a great deal of them will think Russia had a hand in this as well. It's strange, since I have a few students who despised Kaczynski, but nationalist feelings will overwhelm any sense of hard feelings toward him, and the anger will most likely be directed at Russia. Meanwhile, I'm not too sure how this tragedy will affect the everyday operations of the country (will it be like when JFK was shot?)

Polish-Jewish Relations: An Introduction

A little while ago, I wrote a paper titled A Short Glance at Polish-Jewish Relations that dealt with, well obviously, Polish-Jewish relations. It can be read here. The topic itself brings up a lot of emotions and is quite testy for both Jews and Poles. I tried to be as objective as possible, but I'm sure someone will take exception to what I've written. The work itself probably needs some revision.

Oh, Euro

There is a big focus and scrutiny of the Euro these days. Many analysts are wondering if the decade-old mega-currency can actually survive this economic downturn. Greece, Ireland, Portugal, Spain and any other countries ready to step forward with their massive debts, have all cast a pall over their common currency. This leaves many questions for Poland, which is currently not in the Eurozone.

The Euro: The next world currency? Or resigned to the dustbin of economic history?

Poland, which was aiming to go over to the Euro in 2012 (just in time for the Euro Cup) probably won't any time soon. I can't blame them. It makes economic sense; many credit the Zloty for helping Poland be the only EU country not to head into recession.

See, the weakness of the Zloty makes Polish goods cheaper to foreign buyers, even for other EU countries (which use the Euro.) While a struggling country, like Ireland, has seen its costs of production rise with the Euro's strength, Poland's remain relatively low. It's the same strategy that the Chinese are using. Companies have responded by shifting a great deal of production to Poland (Dell, for one, moved its massive computer plant from Limerick to Lodz.) Poland and the Czech Republic recently overtook Italy for the amount of cars produced. The exchange rate of the Euro-Zloty can also have a effect on tourism. With the rise of the Euro against the dollar, the Americans have found that it's becoming more expensive to visit the typical places like France, Spain, and Italy. Tours to Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe (including Russia) have risen over 100% since the recession began. Medical tourism is also a small cash cow; many Germans pass over the border for dentist visits and such (don't expect many Brits to do that though; they just come for the strippers.)

A weak Zloty is not all good news though, it makes things like foreign imports (energy especially) more expensive. But, with all this production shifting to Poland anyway, that might just deaden the blow; that, and the fact that the Poles have accepted that foreign stuff is going to cost an arm and a leg.

Talking to people on the street, one may get the sense that they aren't really looking forward to the Euro. Many believe it will drive prices up (see: Cappuccino Effect) and that wages won't follow. Not all are against it, the Government is pro-Euro as are some businessmen. The cost of intra-European trade would decrease and become stable and predictable. Ask a Pole on the street what the greatest benefit the Euro would bring, and the answer would be, "I wouldn't have to change money when going to Ireland/Germany/Italy."

Missile-laneous

(Note: The title is a bad pun.)

Most everyone must have heard about the recent developments with the US plans for a missile shield in Poland and the Czech Republic. (They were pretty much cancelled, if you hadn't heard.) Anyway, the missile shield is being scaled back from a land-based one to a sea-based one. One can debate the practicalities of such a move and most of the response has been favorable, except from the respective governments. The Joe "Loose-Lips" Biden went on a whirlwind tour to calm down their fears, and apparently Poland is still going to get that battalion of Patriot missiles it always wanted.

Poland and the Czech Republic favored the initial plans (though their populations were hardly united on the issue) firstly because they were going to get a buttload of money (always something good.) BUT, it also did something else: station US troops on Polish soil in US installments. Russia was a bit peeved and threatened to place the Iskander missiles in Kaliningrad (already the most militarized place in Europe.) The US troops with US installments gave assurances for a few things. When Russia invaded Georgia over a year ago, most of Eastern Europe (Baltic States and Ukraine first and foremost) started to fear that Russia was going to come after them next. Some felt that the US response was lacking (i.e. no combat troops were sent.) US troops in Poland gave the Polish a warm feeling because it meant that if Russia attacked, US property and personnel would be in harm's way, forcing an armed intervention by the US and the rest of NATO (already, NATO (Poland included) flies patrols over the Baltic States, and has for some years.) You may ask, "Well, Poland is a major US ally, of course the US would defend Poland regardless if there were US troops in Poland or not." But remember, the Polish have been left high and dry too many times to really believe in a doctrine of defense. They'd rather have the troops. And they will.

Also, snow in October? Strange.

On a chance amount of luck, while rummaging through some old boxes a few years back, I found an unopened bottle of Russian cognac. When I first had it, it burned quite a lot and wasn't too pleasant. Recently, I've been adding just a smidgen to my sugar cookie eggnog, and it's been quite delightful. It smoothes out the over-sweet nog and enhances the body. I recommend it to all.