Every
conversation with a Pole turns into a history lesson. My teacher this time was
an engineer, born in Warsaw in 1969, who designs optical instruments for
bio-imaging. I went to his office to talk about low-cost, portable microscopy
for use in the under-developed world. We got that out of the way quickly and
moved on to more important things, like the history of his nation since the
sixteenth century. Now a naturalized American, Tomasz loves his native country.
It’s a pleasure to listen to an unapologetic patriot. He urged me to read God's Playground: A History of Poland (1979)
by Norman Davies. He digressed at length on the Winged Hussars and their
origins in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth of the 1570’s. From the Siege of
Vienna he leaped forward to Gen. Jaruzelski’s imposition of martial law in Poland
in 1981, which Tomasz recalled as a time when the schools were closed for two
months and food was scarce. All history to a Pole is contemporary.
Tomasz
came to the U.S. for the first time in 1998. He gleaned his image of America,
he told me, from two principal sources – the Western novels of Karl May and Asfaltowy Saloon (1980) by Waldemar
Łysiak, an account of his road trip around the U.S. in 1977. On a more modest
scale, Tomasz recreated Łysiak’s journey, visiting such exotic locales as
Nashville and Mobile. He reminded me of “Strange Days: Zbigniew Herbert in Los Angeles,” the late Larry Levis’ account of serving as Herbert’s chauffeur during
the Pole’s sojourn at UCLA in 1971. It’s good to know Herbert, who never
learned to drive, and his wife Katrina bought a 1960 Ford Fairlane in Los
Angeles, and chilling when the Polish poet recalls for the American the only
time he had ever driven an automobile:
“`It
was after a meeting of the Underground. The boy who drove for me was waiting in
the car. But dead. The Nazis shot him. Just one shot, a style they had. I came
out later . . . I saw him. I had to learn fast. I pushed the boy over to other
side of car seat. I drove. Just one time. With the dead boy beside me. I
drove.’”
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