You are stunned by the silence! I recently stayed at my friend’s estate in southern Poland outside of Krakow. (1) My first morning, I awoke at 5 AM facing a blazing morning sunshine and literally “bolted out of bed”: peace and quiet – no cars, no voices, no movement – shocking! For anyone who has lived anywhere, you could not help but be shaken by the stillness that pervaded everything – even the birds seemed to be “on pause.” I honestly felt naked and exposed – so frail, such another piece of humanity. I had to face my own thoughts without interference. They were, therefore, pure and unsullied. I returned to the “age-old question”: “What was the first thing I knew this morning upon opening my eyes?” The answer: “I am alive?” Its compatriot: “How do I know it is me?” “I have my memories from yesterday.” Now to get to work: I am in the process of giving myself options.
My mother has Polish roots and it is thus possible to acquire a Polish passport in addition to my Canadian one. (2) The process sounds very easy, but it has been fraught with complications and pitfalls. Firstly: my grandmother’s birth records do not exist. The Austro-Hungarian, then Polish, then Ukraine town of Drohobych (3) where she was born had been badly damaged during the Soviet and Nazi military campaigns of World War Two. They purged the town’s resident population — documentation of the local inhabitants is thus scant from this period. I find myself in famous company, however: the iconic Polish artist, writer and literary critic, Bruno Shultz (1892-1942) was also born here. He is considered one of the greatest Polish language writers of the 20th century. (4) He has had less luck than me, unfortunately, and was murdered in his hometown in 1942. Secondly: My babcia’s (5) nuptial records do not exist, either. The church of St. Onuphrius, with its unique architectural style (where she was married in Smoky Lake, Alberta, in 1926), has been moved, quite literally, to the Canadian Museum of History, in Ottawa. (6) Seriously? Her documents are obviously somewhere in heaven next to God. They are, however, not on Earth. This lack of “links,” if you will has produced a huge amount of problems. My Polish friend of some forty plus years has thus taken it upon himself to help me: God bless him. He introduced me to a senior government official to ask for the man’s reference. We spent an evening at his dacha to be queried, in a very polite way, as to my suitability for Polish nationality. Am I a man of quality? I pass the test. He subsequently phones another man “up the chain,” and so it goes. I am always impressed by people like this. They make decisive decisions quickly and with little forethought, and they are rarely wrong: think Winston Churchill (1874-1965).
Whatever eventually comes from this citizenship process, I have learned many things. I have come to have a better understanding of my maternal family and its antecedents and, moreover, I further appreciate the weight of bureaucracy and how it “bears down” on all of us and controls our lives. My file, which has its own indelible number, is literally an inch and a half thick. All of this would have been impossible without the assistance of my friend and his family. What if I had been totally alone in the process? I now understand, in a very small way, the difficulty of immigration in a modern context. My application is relatively straightforward, but it lacks the abovementioned two certificates. I have no criminal record or political or religious skeletons lurking in the closet. It is still not a facile process. With the world’s population is such a state of flux, more and more people will surely be confronted with similar problems. French diplomat, political scientist and historian Alex de Tocqueville (1805-1859) leaves us with a thought: If man were wholly ignorant of himself he would have no poetry in him, for one cannot describe what one does not conceive. If he saw himself clearly, his imagination would remain idle and would have nothing to add to the picture. But the nature of man is sufficiently revealed for him to know something of himself and sufficiently veiled to leave much impenetrable darkness, a darkness in which he ever gropes, forever in vain, trying to understand himself.
A closing thought: Increasingly, young people are following Socrates’ pronouncement in the Apology (7) — to paraphrase — we must be citizens of the world. This will have tremendous input when it comes to critical thinking and, its handmaiden, peace in the unfolding century. If we do not tie our reality to a strict definition of nationalism, race or religion, but to the common human family, we will be well on the way to solving some of the more dire problems facing humanity: global warming, poverty, overpopulation, lack of water, to name but a few.
To sum up: This week we spoke about travel, immigration and being a citizen of the world. We noted that through travel and exposure to other faiths and religions, we will become more knowledgeable of the Earth and its population. We are all just people facing similar needs, hopes and fears.
A philosophical question: Why, when you fly and pride yourself on getting a good price, does an airline attendant remind you that the lack of a blanket and the quality of the food are both directly related to the amount you paid for the ticket?
Just for fun – The Best of Bach
This week on your spritely walk, please reflect on where your family originally came from.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: When we truly come to accept all faiths, philosophies, and religions, and do not try to impose them on each other as the only truths we will truly begin the dialogue that is necessary to heal Mother Earth.
Footnotes:
1) krakow
2) Bruno Schulz
3) Drohobych
4) Travelling as a dual citizen
5) This means grandmother in Polish