It’s the run-up to Christmas that makes it special. The anticipation, the preparation, the false smiles of shopkeepers and the bogus bon-homie from the usually sour-faced public. So it was with great excitement that I scurried into town on St Mikołaj’s Day to witness at first hand the switching on of the lights on the largest tree in Europe. A similar tree stands in Lisbon but Warsaw got there first and so, has the edge.
I arrived in front of the Palace of Culture at 6pm prompt. The rain was blustery and the wind was popping umbrellas inside-out by the dozen. The tree, dwarfed by the Palace – its own lights blinking, the clock blanketed by mist – was dark and insignificant in comparison. A sizeable crowd had gathered and at exactly four minutes past six an announcement that the switch-on would be three more minutes was met by a small groan. Five minutes later, the MC said it would be another two minutes. A louder groan. Just before 6.15 a further message warned of more delays. This time the groan was loud enough to prompt the organizers to start the countdown. The crowd stirred. Ten, nine, eight. The wind blew. Five, four. A child screamed. Two. One. Nothing. Deathly silence. Then, in a heart attack-inducing volley, rockets exploded in the sky, heavenly music blared forth from loudspeakers and the lights came on. All of them. At once. No build-up, no gradual glow: from darkness to light in a split second. A few more fireworks, then silence. Gradually people drifted away; to the Metro, the buses, home. The spectacle witnessed and then left to memory for another year.
Behind the tree, the Palace grinned wickedly, knowing that when the tree came down in January, it would still be there, its brick tower defiant on the skyline. The tree twinkled and pulsed, the lights glowing brightly in the evening gloom. I stood and wondered if the bulbs were in series. If one went, would someone have to come and check all two million? I untangled my umbrella from a flicking branch and headed home, a strange feeling inside of pre-Christmas bon-homie.
An edited version of this post appeared in the New Warsaw Express, an English language magazine for which I write a column. http://www.nwe.pl
Monday, December 19, 2005
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
It has snowed three times now in a week. The first time we got up on Saturday to find the world had turned white. By dinnertime it had all disappeared and the sky was blue and clear. Monday saw a further fall and this too disappeared as fast as it had arrived. A couple of days later the third one appeared. Again, overnight, to cover everything in a soft white blanket. The fourth fall came on Monday and was heavier than the previous ones. It partly cleared during the day but has since frozen in the sub-zero daytime temperatures and looks set to stay. People are talking about winter really being here and they cast suspicious glances at the sky, from which more flakes will soon descend.
The freezing weather has prompted me to buy a new coat as it is just too cold to stand around at the bus stop at 6.30 in the morning. Even when a bus comes it doesn’t mean a respite from the ice as most don’t use any kind of heating so people huddle together in the aisles like penguins, shuffling around to let other passengers on and off or to keep warm. The only way the buses warm up is from the heat that emanates from these folk, their breath steaming up the windows. To give you an idea of how cold it is, I was staring out of the window one day when I noticed that ice crystals had formed on the inside of the glass. I kid you not. And according to the forecast we’re not even into the cold period yet. That is all to come in January – March when temperatures are expected to plummet to minus twenty to twenty-five. What fun that will be.
The city has in some ways started to close down. Tables and chairs have been removed from footpaths and some of the cafes have disappeared, to re-emerge in the warmer sunshine of spring. Some things have stayed the same. The street traders are still there, now bundled up in a fabulous array of coats, scarves, boots and hats. My own favourite trader still sits on his box, winding up plastic frogs or fish and setting them free in a washing-up bowl of water. I mused on his life one day while taking a very long tram ride. What does he write on a form where it says ‘occupation’? Where does he get the water from? Does he carry the full bowl from his flat to Marszalkowska? Negotiating trams and buses to finally arrive at the space on the footpath outside Empik that he calls his own. Does he get any job satisfaction? Does he sell anything? Or does he sit all day, patiently winding and floating his crappy plastic toys?
Outside the front of the Palace of Science and Culture, a huge metal scaffold has appeared, soon to be lit with thousands of lights and turned into the largest – at 82 metres – Christmas tree in Europe. The switch on is next week, December 6th at 6pm. We intend to go and witness this amazing spectacle at first hand, providing it isn’t too cold. Standing around in the day is one thing, doing it at night waiting for someone to throw a switch is something completely different.
So what of my life here? It is very simple and very basic and I am very, very happy. I have everything I could ever need or want here, although a slightly more secure working life would be welcome. This week I hear if my application for a five year visa has been accepted and if I will finally receive my karta pobytu, allowing me to open a proper bank account and to save me having to carry my battered and dog-eared passport everywhere.
The freezing weather has prompted me to buy a new coat as it is just too cold to stand around at the bus stop at 6.30 in the morning. Even when a bus comes it doesn’t mean a respite from the ice as most don’t use any kind of heating so people huddle together in the aisles like penguins, shuffling around to let other passengers on and off or to keep warm. The only way the buses warm up is from the heat that emanates from these folk, their breath steaming up the windows. To give you an idea of how cold it is, I was staring out of the window one day when I noticed that ice crystals had formed on the inside of the glass. I kid you not. And according to the forecast we’re not even into the cold period yet. That is all to come in January – March when temperatures are expected to plummet to minus twenty to twenty-five. What fun that will be.
The city has in some ways started to close down. Tables and chairs have been removed from footpaths and some of the cafes have disappeared, to re-emerge in the warmer sunshine of spring. Some things have stayed the same. The street traders are still there, now bundled up in a fabulous array of coats, scarves, boots and hats. My own favourite trader still sits on his box, winding up plastic frogs or fish and setting them free in a washing-up bowl of water. I mused on his life one day while taking a very long tram ride. What does he write on a form where it says ‘occupation’? Where does he get the water from? Does he carry the full bowl from his flat to Marszalkowska? Negotiating trams and buses to finally arrive at the space on the footpath outside Empik that he calls his own. Does he get any job satisfaction? Does he sell anything? Or does he sit all day, patiently winding and floating his crappy plastic toys?
Outside the front of the Palace of Science and Culture, a huge metal scaffold has appeared, soon to be lit with thousands of lights and turned into the largest – at 82 metres – Christmas tree in Europe. The switch on is next week, December 6th at 6pm. We intend to go and witness this amazing spectacle at first hand, providing it isn’t too cold. Standing around in the day is one thing, doing it at night waiting for someone to throw a switch is something completely different.
So what of my life here? It is very simple and very basic and I am very, very happy. I have everything I could ever need or want here, although a slightly more secure working life would be welcome. This week I hear if my application for a five year visa has been accepted and if I will finally receive my karta pobytu, allowing me to open a proper bank account and to save me having to carry my battered and dog-eared passport everywhere.
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