Arbitrary- Function: adjective- a: based on or determined by individual preference or convenience rather than by necessity or the intrinsic nature of something b: existing or coming about seemingly at random or by chance or as a capricious and unreasonable act of will

As my last month here in Poland slowly expires, I have come to think back on where I’ve been, but less philosophically, on how I’ve gotten there. When I traveled to London back in November, I was quite impressed that I had used nearly every mode of transportation conceivable. Taxi to the bus station, minivan to Katowice airport, plane to London Luton, bus from Luton to Marble Arch, tube to White City, and finally car to my final destination. It was however pointed out that I did not utilize a boat or submarine. I add at this point, that for the most part, all of these functioned as they should. At any rate, I have had quite a few exercises in futility these last months with the transportation systems in Poland. Let us begin with an exercise in arbitrariness, which seems to dominate transportation generally.

One of my great coups in Polish has been being able to procure myself a taxi and get to my ultimate destination, most of the time anyway. While I was quite proud to have mastered the phone conversation required and learned to pronounce my destinations, you all remember my unfortunate experience trying to make my way to Hans Frank’s former residence for a meeting (which consequently did not take place). I have a knack for finding the miniscule percentage of Polish taxi drivers that do not speak English and often find myself dumbfounded by the inability for me to tell anyone that I don’t speak Polish. People often walk up to me and begin with, “Przepraszam pani, oogledy bood zzzzzz szxzwszshzkax?” As you might guess, I have no idea what the last part usually is. Anyway, I often say very clearly in Polish, “Przepraszam, nie mowie po polsku” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak Polish.) In response I get, “Dobrze, frgieu skeirungab zszsxcfaxcasazzz?” I will repeat “Przepraszam, nie mowie po polsku?” They just look at me. So then, I say it in English. To my surprise, involves them asking the question louder and slower. It doesn’t matter how slow you say it, how well you enunciate, and how loud you say it, at the end of the day, I DON’T SPEAK POLISH! Usually after several moments of this, I usually just respond with “Nie wiem” (I don’t know) which surprisingly works really well. I learned this trick early on, but sometimes it won’t work. I have learned to listen for the verb for ‘to have’ because I shocked a woman one day who I believe was asking if I had a lighter, and I responded ‘I don’t know.’ She walked off confused, it actually made me feel pretty good. There is justice in the world.

Anyway, my point was that taxis are a lesson in arbitrariness. I took a taxi in Warsaw about 5 or 6 blocks which cost 30zl; it should have cost about 9zl. The presence of so-called ‘Mafia taxis’ is a hard one to navigate. It may look real, might even have some convincing numbers on it, but in the end, you’re going to get in the end, if you know what I mean. It’s not just Warsaw though. We had the same experience in Krakow after coming back from Greece. The taxi drivers camped outside the bus station at 1am were trying to tell us that it would cost somewhere between 15 and 30zl to get the 8 blocks back home. And then, to top it off, one guy gets angry about why we wouldn’t take his taxi. Because that’s three times what it would cost if we called one? He skulked off displeased. Things sometimes don’t work as they should.

I’m sure you remember my latest rant about the moving of tram stops and changing tram routes. When Karol Wojtyla (aka John Paul II) passed on, none of the trams were working in the center of town. You had to go around the center to get anywhere you were going. It would have been different if there were some helpful signs posted about it, but no, all the signs said were, “some trams will not be running as scheduled, you’re on your own buddy” or something to that effect. No one tells you when these things are going to happen. No one tells you that they’re going to change the tram routes overnight; no one tells you they’re going to move tram stops entirely for no good reason whatsoever, and no one certainly ever tells you what to do when there’s a change.

I realized about a month ago as I was standing in the freezing cold that I had spent a great deal of my time in Krakow waiting on the #8 tram. The number 8 is the single most unreliable tram in Krakow. It never comes on time. It’s supposed to be a frequent tram coming about every 8 minutes or so. As I stood outside in subarctic temperatures, I watched the number 6, which comes only every 20 minutes, come by twice and still no number 8. Sometimes, trams just don’t come at all. I waited for an hour at Urzednicza for the 8 until finally giving up.

That’s not the half of it. I’ll never cease to be amazed by the difficulties involved in purchasing a ticket. Half of the kiosks can’t change anything larger than a 20zl note which often makes ticket purchasing difficult. Sometimes they don’t have tickets at all and buying them on the tram is not as easy as it looks. I remember one occasion where I tried to buy a ticket on tram to get back across town and my money was thrust back at me because the conductor didn’t have change. (I hasten to add that I had given him a 5zl coin for a 3zl ticket, I didn’t hand him a 100zl note or anything.) Since the tram was already rolling, I had no choice but to sit down and hope no one checked my ticket. It was then that the Polish lady in her 40s (a curious specimen) decided to tell me off for not validating a ticket that I didn’t have. People on trams are just strange anyway. I’ve never been hit so many times with bread for not moving fast enough or being scowled at for some unknown reason. While I respect that when older people or nuns get on the tram younger persons should offer their seats, I cannot understand why older people must yell at younger persons and hit them with bags or umbrellas for said seat. Frankly, that’s just rude.

If you thought that figuring out what trams were coming when and where, the service on the PKP train service will shock entirely. As a person under 26, I am entitled to certain discounts on train fares. It seems however, I only seem to get this about every other time when the lady at the Orbis office is feeling generous. You can actually only get them on certain trains at certain times a day and certain days of the week. Supposedly, buying a ticket for the Intercity train from Krakow to Warsaw entitles you to free coffee or tea and a cookie. Sometimes this is true, sometimes you never see the trolley. There’s no telling when this may or may not occur.

All of this is compounded by the problems of actually booking and buying tickets. While trying to catch an earlier train home from Bialystok a couple of weeks ago, I had the unique privilege to watch bureaucracy at work. We asked the lady at window 4 about changing the tickets who said we could but we’d need to talk to the lady at the information desk about it to actually change the tickets. So, after waiting for the lady at the information desk, she proceeded to tell us precisely the same thing and that we should go back to window 4 to make the necessary arrangements. Once waiting again for the lady at window 4, she informed us that since it was an intercity train from Warsaw to Krakow we had to change our tickets at window 9, the intercity window. Waiting on her, we found out it was going to cost oodles more to travel the Intercity. We found that for some unknown reason, the best train for our arrival in Warsaw had a reservation charge of 50zl per seat while the one an hour later was only 5zl per seat, go figure.

One of the advantages of Europe is the proliferation of cheap airlines which lets you country hop, at times, for little of nothing. Although they have cut out free snacks and drinks (hmm… sounds like the US airlines doesn’t it?) they have also cut out any semblance of customer service. I have flown RyanAir, EasyJet, WizzAir, and SkyEurope to various destinations. You’re not given a seat assignment so it’s just a free for all when getting on the plane. The odd thing is, to apparently simplify matters, they have given everyone a priority number in the order in which you checked in, which I can honestly say means absolutely nothing. I don’t see the point of the trickery of giving people priority numbers and not using them. If the point is that the earlier you get there the better choice of seat you have thus promoting people to check in earlier, they have failed miserably. I no longer see the point in checking in early, everyone is just going to pack in and mow you down to get a seat. The Poles are notoriously bad at this. Before the attendants are ready for you, hordes of Poles are pushing and shoving to get to the door. As I’ve mentioned before, Poles can’t queue. I took a RyanAir flight from London to Dusseldorf (shudder) and everyone lined up nice and neat and boarded the plane like human beings instead of wild boars.

It doesn’t help that I’ve become one of those grumpy frequent flyers. The slightest thing sets me off and I now need backup whenever flying to ensure the FAA doesn’t arrest me for threatening anyone. I was completely flabbergasted one day to see that the WizzAir plane which we would be taking to London was a mere 50 yards from us in the terminal. Did we walk to the plane? Noooooo, we had to board a bus, crammed full of Poles smelling like sausages, to go 20 seconds over to the airplane, to have everyone shove their way out and make a run for the stairs. Could we have some order please? It does not make sense. When the plane lands, they let you walk to the terminal, but you can’t walk to the plane from the terminal. No sense whatsoever. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve never met such tough as nails stewardesses who, I’m convinced, think this is the Air Force and not WizzAir, although it’s pretty easy to see their mistake, even though the Air Force does not wear magenta tops. People have been yelled at and insulted over the loudspeakers, people have had their phones confiscated, and the stewardesses are just generally unpleasant. I suppose you’re not paying for service.

I’m bracing myself for another journey coming tomorrow. I have to go to Orbis to book train tickets for Warsaw which should take somewhere close to eternity. The prices will never match and I’ll never be sure to get the discount. The trains will be late and I will not get my free cookie. And, inevitably, someone wearing eau de sausage will sit next to me and speak to me in Polish for the entirety of the trip. I really wish I had learned more insults, because no, I really don’t speak Polish.

Quote for the Week:
“I feel about airplanes the way I feel about diets. It seems to me they are wonderful things for other people to go on.” -Jean Kerr

Latin Phrase of the Week:
Utinam barbari spatium proprium tuum invadant!
May barbarians invade your personal space!