Monday, June 12, 2006

Kruk in Katowice

I must admit being a little under the weather which is silly because the weather here is finally quite splendid. Nevertheless my reader, here i begin.
I was sitting on my balcony listening to the latest rantings of my old crazy lady neighbor. She asks me all sorts of questions not knowing I don't always understand. She has no sense of time as she thinks every time my baby gets bigger that I have just had another one. She shouts (in Polish obviously) "What number is that one? 12 ? where is that small one you had? Soon you will have your own pre-school." She will also see me in the middle of the day smoking on my balcony and yell" you look like an old scarecrow" or "mannequin staring at me" Or my favorite so far, "you are the laziest man in Poland, always smoking on the balcony!" She is never outside to see that I work either very early in the morning or at night.
Living in gray dusty sooty Katowice is like being in some strange novel, or better a low budget arty film with no real point but to show some sort of alienation, or simply how weird things are when they are only a little different. After almost 2 years living here the language isn't quite so daunting, I am not nearly fluent but now I can attempt to pronounce somethings and actually come close enough to convey some actual meaning close to what I wish to say. But a language with at least five ways of saying "you" takes a lot of work to get your tongue around. Not to mention consonant combinations which make your eyes water, and brain actually freeze with indecision. "Prz" and "Scz" to name only two. But more strange is the behavior during football(soccer) matches or rather comming back from matches. The other day I was at the tram stop around 9pm and I heard a chant reverberating from a tram heading towards me but still almost 15 blocks away. Then as the tram pulled in front of me what seemed like hundreds of teenagers streamed out all chanting "G K S Katowice" and clapping in unison. There were several vans of heavily padded Police waiting for trouble. Often the Police will surround the bus station thus "penning in" the fans. This is a scary situation for a non fan who not speaking the language so well will often answere yes to most questions. And a yes answer could get the crap beaten outta you by some fan you just unwittingly insulted, or get you hauled into the station by the cops. As an american strangely to say I will never understand the infantile mentality of fighting because you are from the other town or for the other team. Heckling I understand and believe to be essential to sport, and a fans given right especially a paying fan. But violence and skull-crackery I say Nie that is just plain idiocracy.