Sociological Mystery in Powiśle

Sociological Mystery in Powiśle,

“Situated in the superbly positioned and up and coming Powiśle district, this one bedroomed flat enjoys the benefits of a sofabed, acres of spacious storage, fully fitted shower and washing machine, two ring gas hob cooker and fridge freezer. It also comes with a stunning view of the Palace of Culture and Science (Stalin’s Middle Finger) and the attractive arches of Most Poniatowskiego. Close to modern amenities and with excellent road, tram and bus links, this is an opportunity not to be missed and would suit a young professional. No Irish or DSS.”

Estate agent speak is a wonderful thing but I do feel sorry for the people who have to write these kind of descriptions. They must have a hard time when writing anything else: “Dear Tom, Many congratulations on your well-placed birthday, ideally situated around the Christmas period, allowing you to take advantage of your well appointed two doored fridge-freezer.” One of the reasons I started this blog was to de-programme myself from Mandarin, the civilservantese of caveats, qualifications and depersonalisation that becomes automatic after you’ve written your millionth submission or press notice, but it’s almost as deep rooted as my fear of confronting strangers outlined here.

The country mouse has become a town mouse. I’ve moved from the domain of She With The Judas Hole to a small but comfortable one bed right in the centre of town. Although summer staggers on into September the nights are progressively colder and it’s only a matter of time before the cloud cover becomes a constant and the rain, hail and snow descends and the snit appears. Winter will be rather a lonely affair for me, I think, as I adjust to life alone in the city and I find myself rather gloomy at the thought of being without the Ball and Chain that has hawkishly observed my every fault and demeanour for the past four years. I will miss her hugely.

But with that comes new opportunities: to explore and familiarise myself with Warsaw, to beat its streets with my collar turned up and memorise new bus routes, to drink in more sights (yet more tower blocks, sounds (more different ways of saying ku..a and właśnie) and smells (kebab shops, in the main). I am hoping that my new found solitude will mean a much better relationship with the city in which I live, having moved from a sleepy and relatively remote suburb right to where the action is.

All this and more was running through my mind as I walked up the stairs to my new klatka, besaddled with the advance guard of my possessions, on Friday night. Lift one had gone west, so I pressed the button for lift two, only to be confronted by what I can only describe as a significantly sizeable deposit of waste matter. Ah....

Suddenly the genteel modernity of my Imielin klatka seemed a hundred miles away. I’ve noticed that here in this tower block people don’t say good day to each other or even goodbye in the lifts. Even the Ursynovian alcoholics seem a cut above the gnarled walnuts that sit drinking in the playground round the corner (full pics to follow).

The descovery meant a sudden deflation of my emotional balloon preceded only slightly more slowly by extreme wrinkling of the nose and holding of breath.

I mean, who defecates on their own doorstep? Or was this some kind of arcane greeting and have I just misinterpreted the whole thing? Could any Varsovian sociologists help me?