Mind the mirror

It is true that you need a mirror to see how you look. When you don’t see one around you, you could become innovative to take a selfie to check! Just like the simple routine of checking our looks in the mirror, subconsciously our mind keeps thinking, comparing and drawing parallels. I do not have research data on how and why or whether the results facilitate or hamper. I started feeling this strongly during the last couple of weeks. We were just the second Indian family to move in to Katowice to start living in the city. When our flight departed India, we had 3 contact details: the hotel where we would stay for the next 4 days, my husband’s office address and my son’s prospective International English school. The best part was, the over-confident Hema (myself) had done some homework about renting flats with real estate agents over phone and had booked the hotel only for 4 days. We did not have one single contact number with an individual’s name (hope you understand that I do not want to count the Real estate agents here). My husband’s company was setting up its new unit in the city and had clearly mentioned that they will not be able to offer any assistance.

We landed here on the 5th of October 2013, Saturday evening @ 5:30 pm. As soon as we checked in at the hotel and dumped our huge luggage we set out for a quick dinner before calling it a day.  It was my first trip to Europe and before this I had only seen images and heard holiday stories from my friends about all the beautiful things that one would miss after a trip to Europe. Right on this first evening, I could feel love in the air. The sweet smiles, warm hugs and pecks on the cheeks were happening all around as we walked through this busy lane over ambitiously looking for a vegetarian restaurant. I am an Indian middle class woman who got to see hardly any movies as a child, who has been through the situation of TV being switched off when there was a kissing scene in the movie (lack of channels to change & as a school going girl I had wondered, why do they have so many buttons on this remote when there were only 2 channels to watch). Next on the offer was a live kissing scene on the pavement of the busy shopping street. The father of a 4-year-old girl who was watching his daughter playing around the light pole turned and hugged his wife, gently bent her back, leaned on her and they shared a lovely romantic kiss when business was just as usual for everyone around. We had to walk past this couple to get to our restaurant. As we approached them from about 50 mtrs when all this started, they were still busy and everything around was just so perfect: the colourful autumn leaves, the chillness in the air and ‘mind your own business’ attitude of people. Thanks to Google, we found “Zloty Osho” (Golden Donkey) the vegetarian restaurant that we were looking for. It would take 7 months for me to know that there were only 2 vegetarian restaurants in Katowice. We stayed in a hotel close to Zolty Osho and had our first meal there was sheer luck.

Just like all the previous projects is my personal and professional life, a XL book was created on day one when I heard from my husband that we may be moving out of Bangalore. I named it “Project P”, P for pack off as we were looking at options from Hyderabad, Noida, somewhere in Europe and somewhere in America. Saving 20 seconds on renaming the file, it was confirmed that we were moving to Poland so I mentally mapped, P for Poland. My file had tasks to do, dependencies, relocation financials, enquiries and follow ups and much more. After I had done 80% homework on everything, we were told that we were moving into Katowice not Wroclaw as mentioned earlier as there would be a new office in this town and they would want my husband to work out of this office. Wow. Thank you. I feel elevated just by the fact that things simply get complex when I lay my hands on them. So I spent the 20 seconds that I had saved earlier to rename the file as Version 2.0.

Every time when I hear that I am overambitious I fail to see a reason to change or downgrade. I put in enough work before so that 8 out of 10 times my plan A works else I always have a plan B which gives enough time to set Plan A right. And thanks to all those wonderful people whom I met during my professional life I count more on myself and the work I do. The only surprise is nature which I thank and try to coexist peacefully with. On Day 3, my son was at school and on Day 6 we had finalised an apartment to move in. on day 7, we were all set in the rented apartment and were having our first Indian home meal. In the next six months I would start learning Polish, make some Polish friends and get myself a visa status change so that I could start working. What would eventually happen is more Indians would move into this city.

With every new Indian family came more queries. Before moving out of India they wanted to know everything right from what vegetables are available to what masalas that are not, what is the rent to what is the temperature.  I thanked their stars that they had a first-hand source to ask whereas I trusted those who took their time to write and post on the internet. Myself being the “H” for “Help” person I was more than glad to tell all of them every single piece of information that I knew, all the improvements in my relocation process sheet and even the smallest of the mistakes that I had learnt from. Seven months and eight families, I realised that my mind is subconsciously benchmarking. As I stopped to make a conscious stock taking, I realised all that I had done with least help, in the given time and just marginally overboard on the budget.

As the calendar reminded me that I am getting older by another year, I sat down to reflect on my learning for the year. My routine self-evaluation which I trust has contributed immensely to what I decided to stand for as I would often have disagreements on what I feel like doing and what I ought to be doing. My mind told me that I am being too hard on myself. This is nothing to do with my over ambitiousness but about giving myself due credits for my achievements. May be they are not as big as the ninth Roland Garros of Nadal but not negligible either.

I live everyday either by living that day or planning for the next. Being kind and nice to others was more by habit than by learning. But I wish I had understood the importance of being nice to myself earlier. I feel I am happy and more in peace with myself as I started to respect myself for all that I do.

Annual exam and visit to village

During the last couple of weeks I have been flooded with memories from school and college days. Year after year - 10 months of school, followed by exams and then a trip to our native village, seemed to be a fixed annual calendar. Again to step one, 10 months of school, I often felt that the calendar should start from June and it would have been simpler that way.  The mid-term exams, the sports day, the annual day went past year after year. Dozens of books were read, two dozen or more notebooks filled with writing, rhymes, poems and tables learnt by-heart, followed by formulae of maths & science, maps from geography, years from history, periodic table for chemistry and scientific names for biology and of course more ! As I look, back I am not very clear if I liked the exams because the vacation would follow the exams or I liked them because I will get a fresh set of books & notebooks and new teachers. What I learnt from those classrooms and how much of those do I use today? What did I learn outside the boundaries of the school and how much of those do I use today?

Take a quick time machine ride to 2013. We came to Poland in October 2013. Unlike my school and college days, for a change, I was left to experiment for a WHOLE year to find my own answers. The difference was I never had to sit in a classroom, there was neither a syllabus to follow nor an assessment to deliver, did not have to write sheets after sheets, most importantly no one scored and gave me a grade. How better can a learning process be? I had to choose what was important for me to learn, could determine the pace, could read from the Internet or ask people. I learnt all that I know today about living here just to find my way through and live comfortably in Katowice without even knowing that I was learning. A year later, October 2014, I happened to attend the training session from International Organisation for Migrants (IOM). This is meant for new migrants, but still I decided to checkout on this. The two day training session came in as a surprise with activities and games that seemed to be revising my knowledge on all that I learnt about this new country and living in this part of the world over the last one year. Here I am, in this training session finding myself knowing all the answers that I am supposed to know.

Apart from the fact that this academic year started in October, it made me learn more crucial things about the process of learning itself. Maybe this is not the first time it is happening to me. But, technically this is the first time that I am trying to take a conscious look at it and analyse. “Wanting to learn” and “having to learn” are miles apart. They are like the two poles, except for the fact that they are the extremes, there is nothing else similar.

In this age of technology, I feel the toughest job is that of a teacher who needs to be a ‘super-professional’. One who understands this difference between wanting to learn & having to learn and ensures that brains are not filled with data dumps which never need retrieval but rather with useful data which are so constantly used that they become sub-conscious at some point and do not even need a backup.

Then came the trip to Szczyrk reminding me of the ritual that followed my annual exams – a trip to my village.

Back to 1980s & 1990s. As we crossed the city limits and drove into the dusty roads, the air smelled fresh. Pollution was rather mud and not any toxins. More greenery, temples, simple people - some even without footwear, bullock carts, gracing cows, the farms, the stream and simple houses mostly paining in white with thatched or tiled roofs announced that we are close to our destination. It was quite the same feel when we approached Szczyrk last weekend. The roads narrowed, were not muddy though. The mountain architecture could be seen distinctly in all constructions. People were simple, with less make-up and more flat footwear (happy with their natural heights). The mountain stream was gaining speed and volume as it ran bordering the road.  

Szczyrk is a town inhabited by around 5000 people and is in the Beskid Śląski mountains of Southern Poland.  It is a popular winter sports centre and principal training centre for Poland’s winter sport athletes. Just recovering from flu, we decided to take the chair-lift to reach the peak of Skrzyczne. Over the 10 minutes ride, my body could feel the change in temperature, air pressure and wind speed. The view from the summit made me wish that I were Raavan and had 10 pair of eyes to capture the breadth of this beauty or maybe Lord Brahma with 4 pairs of eyes, but more effective to see in all 4 directions. Soon I realised that it was simpler with one head and a single pair of eyes as I had to use my camera to take pictures and swiftly jump in and out of the chair-lifts.

This morning-evening trip was not like those long ones which lasted for months during my school days. But I trust this is another small beginning. I step into the next year wanting to learn and waiting for another vacation.

Szczyrk : Treat to your eyes :)

Szczyrk

Treat to your eyes :)

Coming fresh from my first trip to mountains in Poland. The story will follow in a day.

Changing colors of Autumn

Did those trees mistake the clouds for cobwebs ?

Escape to peace

One season : two shades

A group photo, for a change a family of trees :)

A mountain stream, walking by its side I could feel the water

My obsession with flowers continues

Witamy Autumn :)

Here is quick refresh of my first spring & summer in Katowice. The pictures are as refreshing as everything around was during the last 6 months. From the first trace of green, the tiny baby leaves, the rain washed fresh leaves, cute little snails, the mushrooms, floods of colors from the flowers,

Shades of green, shapes of leaves and the colors of the petals - I did not go searching for anything exotic. These are some photos that I took in and around my flat. Savor them till I bring you the next set of autumn colors.

A Piece of My Heart

The Journey begins

Wujek coal mine or Kopalnia Wujek as they call it, is a huge building which one cannot miss  to notice when crossing the Wincentego Pola street. The word “Wujek” (read as vu-yek) means “uncle” in Polish. This is a coal mine. Mining operations in Wujek began in 1899 by combining 6 mines in the Silesian region which was then part of Germany. By 1995, during 50 years of operations, they would had mined 50 million tonnes of coal and exported to 32 states, which created history. 3.9 million tons of coal mined in 1979 is considered as one of their best production, another history. Maybe then, no one foresaw the fateful day which would take the name of this mine into history, but this time not for their productivity. This is the story behind the still functional coal mine: digging and exporting tonnes of coal day after day.  What is the story hidden in this museum? Is it just to showcase the change in technology in mining coal? No. But the first step by a group of people to show their unity, their thirst for freedom, and creating an awakening that people would remember in the decades to come. 

I am going to take you through this journey of mine to the coal mine museum. I had tried to compile my experience from watching the short film at the museum (titled ‘A life with scars’), reading through the reference materials made available at the museum and the books offered at the museum.

The history

As I share with you this special journey of mine filled with an array of emotions, I need to introduce you to the history of Poland at this point to enable better understanding of what I want to share.

Poland has a long history beginning from 1569. Just keeping the relevance in mind, here is a small bit of it from the recent past. On September 1, 1939 Hitler ordered invasion of Poland and World War 2 began. By the end of the War, the map of Poland changed with some territories added to it from Germany and some of its territories becoming a part of Soviet Union. In June 1945 Polish provincial government was formed establishing communist rule in Poland.

With the western funds inflow, Poland was one of the best economies in the early 1970s. But soon the economy broke down owing to misspend of funds leading to a foreign debt of $20 billion. There was nothing on the shop shelves to buy. Strikes broke out across the country due to further price hikes announced in July 1980. The protests of 1980 were different from the previous ones. During earlier protests people assembled on streets to protest and the militia men dispersed the crowd. Now, the protests were consolidated at the work establishments in the larger cities. The communist rule had to negotiate and finally signed agreements which had the key postulate of formation of free-party independent trade union.

Solidarity became a social movement gathering millions of Poles. The expectations of the participants posed danger to the foundations of the communist government raising hope for future changes to democracy. In the meantime, authorities treated signed agreement as a temporary compromise and were preparing to dissolve the union. On December 12 -13, 1981, Martial law was declared under which the army and the ZOMO riot police were used to crush the solidarity. The solidarity movement gained momentum and the country was declared as the Republic of Poland in 1989.

Fear and fearlessness

The TV and radio stations of Poland fell silent during the snow and frost filled night of December 12 – 13, 1981. Telephones were disconnected. Early next day morning, televisions started showing General Wojciech Jaruzelski (Read as voi-check yaru-zelski) taking full control over the country as head of the Military council and the declaration of Martial law. Armed functionaries of militia and security service units burst into thousands of homes to arrest those who refused to yield. The called it internment. No one was very clear about what the Martial law was all about except that it increased the authorities of the army and state ministers and restricted the civil rights. 

Around 1:00 am on 13 December, the trade union leader of Wujek mine Jad Ludwiczak’s flat door was forced open. His colleagues who went for his rescue were battered. He was one among the 1900 people interned. The news of the arrest reached the workers. The strike at Wujek began almost immediately.  The workers who came in for different shifts on 14 December, Monday joined the strike. The demands of the striking workers included withdrawal of  the Martial law and the release of the interned. The militia and ZOMO were not willing to accept the demands and planned the pacification of the Wujek mine. Actions taken by the authorities were supposed to raise fear of uncertainty and destroy hopes of people. Colonel Jerzy Gruba planned the pacification to be carried out by 1471 militia officers, 760 soldiers with 22 tanks and 44 infantry vehicles.

The striking miners were not new to the thin line between life and death. May be they were the ones who knew it much better than others. As they went for work day after day going down the lift into the dark mine to dig out more coal the only feeling the always experienced was hope and the one they seldom did was fear.

Nervousness

Unpredictable situations make us nervous. As I read through these documents and books, the only set of nerves which were functional in my body were the ones which were making the tears flow down my eyes. I just got to understand what nerves of steel mean when I understood what these striking men and their families faced during the minus 16 degree Celsius December nights.

Families of the striking miners and residents from the neighbouring cities poured into Wincentago Street. They were gathered to help the miners in any possible way. The key action was the keep the militia men and ZOMO away from the mine compound wall. Distract them, split them but limit their access to the miners. The tension grew multi-fold during the following hours until the morning of 16^th December, Wednesday. False alarms and rumours sustained the vigilance every minute. Loaded coal cars were placed as barricades.

Anger

When the militia men arrived with their troops for pacification, the people gathered on the roads got into action. They threw stones, bricks, metal nuts, all they had at hand to keep the militia at distance. Stones from the coal mine waste were their main supply as the tried to drag the ZOMO officers away from the mine.

Women tried to sit in front of the tanks on the thick layer of snow as they thought the tanks will not crush them and move past. A 12 year old boy was clinging to the canon in an attempt to stop it. His memories were fresh as he spoke about the incident standing in the same spot after two decades. Unable to move past this angry crowd which was willing to do anything to stop the militia men from reaching the miners, they used water canons and gas launchers.

Nature has its own mind and takes different calls at different times. The tsunamis and the earthquakes wipe away lives without partiality of young or old and rich or poor. But this time, the icy cold winter decided to take the side of the ones fighting for freedom as freedom is the identity of nature.

The direction of wind changed suddenly and militia officers were affected by the attack that they had initiated. One of the tanks ran over the barricade and got stuck there. Miners took advantage of the situation and fought back. They threw back the hand grenades and also threw objects from the roof. The retreat angered the officers. Adding strength to it was the firing order.

Pain and cry

This time the militia men and ZOMO advanced with their guns and nothing stopped them from opening fire. The miners had neither protection nor weapons to fight back. All that they had were spades and helmets. But the bullets pierced through the helmets too. There were shot ruthlessly. An eyewitness recollects that the snow was slippery with blood.  The message about wounded and dead miners spread quickly. The militia men beat the ambulance drivers and paramedics stopping them from treating the wounded or taking them to hospitals.

The doctors and paramedics emotionally recall the condition of the wounded miners and how they were threatened when a few of them were brought to hospital. One of the paramedics succumbed to one strong blow that he was unconscious for the next coupe of days. Seeing the wounds of the miners who survived and the pains that their families went through during the following years are as horrific as the ones of the dead.

Totally 9 miners died, the youngest being 19 years old. The same evening people put a cross and hung the miners lamp on the cross representing the dead miners. Some of them were married and had young children. The families held themselves together to continue their fight for freedom and find answers to this inhuman act.

Empathy

How many times did I manage to be in the other person’s shoe to understand a situation? How difficult is it? Does it get better with age, practise or with the seriousness of the issue? I do not have answers. But, I learnt how best it can get when I saw this lady who is the wife of a surviving miner. The miner in his late 70s had been hit by 3 bullets on his back. He can barely walk. He was also affected by the gas shells. During the last 30+ years, he has been hospitalised 70 times for various illness. The list did not spare any known organ of the human body. When his wife spoke about how they have managed to carry on with their lives, had a word for the families of dead miners which left me chocked. She said “with all that we have endured, my husband survived but there were 9 of them who did not”. If I were her, I am not sure if I would have been able to look beyond myself.

Hope

The solidarity movement gathered momentum. The hope increased inspite of threats. As the wounds healed,  they left behind the scars of unforgettable memory. The cross with nine lanterns stood near the Wujek mine gate reminding the sacrifice and the duty of other Poles to achieve independence. Miners enter their job with the hope that they will get back home alive at the end of the day’s work. This hope was bigger and had the future generations at stake. They achieved what they set out to achieve, an independent Poland.

Sigh of relief

The initial appeals at court did not yield justice to the miners. Given the hopeless situation that may not yield results doctors hid the autopsy reports of the miners deep in the woods. They waited for the time when a fair law and order situation will prevail to reveal the truth. A young miner’s daughter visited the court during each of its hearing and made notes of each and every word spoken in the court waiting for the day when her father’s murderers would be punished. Finally in 2007, the judgement came in favour of the miners. Many of the convicts had died during the course of the case. 

Silence

Today a huge steel cross stands in the place where the original wooden cross stood as a memorial of pacification. There are nine crosses representing each miner who lost his life with an electric lantern in the centre of each cross. The mine shares the wincentago street with a residential area. Among the zooming cars and the mine trucks, there is a silence that surrounds this place.

Currently the mine produces sub-bituminous coal with a typical energy content of 30000 – 31000 KJ/KG, volatile content of 30-31%, ash content of less than 5% and sulphur content of less than 0.6%.  Lot of things have changed, but the memories remain.

As I left the museum, I wrote in the visitor’s book that I leave behind a piece of my heart.

I was 3 yrs old when this happened, just as old as one of the deceased miner’s kid. Just reading about this and seeing people talk onscreen made me go through several feelings. All along my visit and the days when I sat down to compile it, they continued. I don’t even know the names of few of them. Strange jerks ran through my body. My hand turned icy cold though the temperature outside was 20 degree Celsius. I know history has more than enough stories of misery. And given the kind of person I am I may continue to leave a piece of my heart at every such place I see. But I if could have a measure for my courage, empathy, patience, and hope, I bet they would have measured higher from the minute I just stepped out of this museum. I am thankful for all that I have and more thankful to all others across the globe who helped me in having what I do.