Sophia Wasiak Butler - Scotland and Aye

Trip on the River (Spyw Dunajcem)

If its true that we only have two choices in life: what we do and who we do it with, I didnt know what I wanted to do and had nobody to do it with. As a literature graduate, I felt like a soldier in the Foreign Legion ready for hire. We were the generation of over-educated losers, because we lost out on the times when the economy was thriving, money was easy to make, jobs were plentiful and love was an easily obtainable commodity. My friends and I threw ourselves into revelling over the summer, anticipating the beginning of real life. Those who chose more practical degrees found their three-year stint qualified them to do something literature proved that I could read and write coherently and structure an opinion of a text not skills which appear in an employers top ten which seems to read Experience x10. I was at a loss, my friends were either bogged down in further academia and the mire of a life-consuming Masters degree, or working jobs which made them want to end-it-all. By chance a friend told me about the programme at the Uniwersytet Jagiellonski (Jagiellonian University): a six month to one-year course in the Polish language with a choice of subjects from cooking to Polish history. I knew I had to go, Krakw is my favourite city, far outweighing Venice or Paris in my humble opinion. It is truly romantic with its cobbled streets steeped in history, enchanting tiny alleyways and dungeon-like stone basements.

I have always felt a sense of being torn between two cultures and names: Sophia and Zosia. As a child I grew up in what we affectionately termed the United Nations: of all my inner city friends, not one was completely English, so the whole business of being picked up by relations and prszyszywane Ciocie at seven. It was so much more relaxed than the London way of mums ringing each other and driving to surgically accurate playdates, until a quarter past four and not a minute more.

The freedom of expressing myself in two languages has been a discovery I am completely different in each language and culture, but my identification had been primarily with Poland. Whether that is because my mother is Polish and I grew up with her, I am not sure. Yet, I felt that I had not completely immersed myself in Polishness because I had never lived there. As I progressed through my okres buntu, I was able to stop fighting being English and accept that I am mixed, which allows me the possibility of picking the best qualities from each culture. It took me a long time to realise that in rejecting being English, I was rejecting half of myself, not to mention my father. Over time, having reconciled myself to being a mongrel and embracing Britishness, I felt that I would like to live in Poland in order to meet the practicalities of being a citizen, such as the procedure for paying bills and opening a bank account. This opportunity was perfect. I trusted that I would have a wonderful six months because the city itself promotes contentedness in its beauty, but I could not have known that I would meet friends who I hope to know for the rest of my life.

At the Uniwersytet Jagiellonski we were told to walk around Krakw looking up and down from the kamiennice mixed people who could all relate to the stereotypical bossy Polish mother and the Ciocie who kept you well fed over the holidays. Attending our school there were also a couple of men who had married Polish women and wished to learn the language (this greatly impressed everyone) and more than a few Japanese students who wished to be able to read Polish pedagogues who were not often translated into Japanese. One character who I remember with a smile, was a sixty-something retired Japanese man who was dismayed to find that his wife did not take to suddenly having him around the house with nothing to do. He therefore went to a language school, in pursuit of a hobby and the first teacher he had the opportunity to speak to, being a Polish one, sent him to Krakw where he was happily studying whilst living with a family.

The six months that I spent there were golden; full of pierogi ruskie re-stocking the much frequented bars, cafes and restaurants in the central square and a very different walk in the early evening when the strolling tourists would take-over. Krakw is the only city I have seen, apart from London, where there is no noticeable ebb and flow of tourism in the rynek come snow or sun, they are out in their droves. This is potentially annoying if you live in the city, but it does mean that there are lots of young international people to feed the club and bar scene.