HOW I ALMOST BECAME A MOVIE STAR IN POLAND

Just cuz they gave you that fancy-shmancy title doesn't mean you have some degree. Knowledge is earned bro. Don't let that shit get to your head!


March, 2008 Somewhere in Warsaw..

"Didn't you tell me you were an actor, Tom?"
She said after she paid 50 zloty for our coffee and cake. The equivalent of my hourly private lesson rate. Dagmara was just a year younger than me. He on the other hand was twice my age and when he said I should give his wife English lessons too, I was expecting someone a little more, “preceding”. When she opened the door to their sick-ass 'Powisle' apartment, our eyes met and I fell in love. Not with the 26 year old wife of an old millionaire, but the idea that this whole thing resembled a 90's movie, starring Chris O'Donnell or some other idiot.
 
Although everyone automatically assumed she was a gold-digger, she wasn't. Daga was cool. She did what was expected of her, be a loving wife and supportive pillar to her husband and his enterprises. We met twice a week at their apartment or if she was out, we'd meet at an overpriced coffee house somewhere on Nowy Swiat.
It was the first warm day of early spring and like all sun starved Europeans, Daga suggested we take our lesson outside. She never read any of the learning material I emailed her so we'd always end up sitting around talking about her life, her 7 year old daughter and the Arts.

The sun was shining and the salt stained sidewalks would soon be washed clean after the first few rainfalls.

  "Yes, that's right, well it's what I studied".

 We sit down on two white plastic  lawn chairs facing each other and Daga takes a sip of her Machiatto. It's one of those places conveniently adjacent to a park with plenty of space to sit outside. People in lawn chairs recline, wrapped in colorful fleece blankets, cupping over sized mugs of coffee and hot chocolate.

I am very happy because I put my son in international kindergarten. He will be learning English, French and Spanish. They have a very advanced music program too! I bought a piano for the flat.

Usually during these casual unprepared conversation lessons, I tend to switch off. I call it an imaginative philosophical trance. I answer yes, no and immediately follow up with questions that I know they will love to go on about.

Me - Do you really believe that depriving a 4 year old of a simple sandbox and finger-painting childhood by replacing it with a competitive scholastic curriculum will be beneficial in the long run?

Pupil - Eh, can you repeat it?

Me - Sorry, what kind of Piano did you buy?


 A few yards away, behind the playground, a shaggy dog chases a ball thrown by a guy with one of those ball chuckers for people too lazy to throw. 

On the grass ahead of us, a little boy wearing a yellow GAP kids jacket decided to take his A&F hat off and start throwing it up in the air and catching it. Soon another kid joins him and they take turns throwing the hat up into the air, seeing who will get it first.

"That child will get pneumonia!"

Screams an old woman in a moher beret and fur coat that looks like it was stolen from a boar after a hit'n'run.

"You're parents are irresponsible do you hear me!"

The old woman's yelling prompts the kid's mother to react. A tall curvy blond in tight designer jeans and chocolate brown riding boots with a golden ponytail, marches over to the kid and nearly rips his arm out of it's socket and drags him back to where she and an immaculate brunette were sitting and discussing the new color of grout between the brunettes bathroom floor tiles. The kid starts to cry, but mom inquires about the grout between the tiles in the brunette's kitchen.
Daga takes another sip from her latte. The froth is so thick that when she put the glass down, a tiny flake of foam stays on the tip of her nose. I rub my nose to subconsciously send her a signal, but it doesn't help.


"Well, how would you like to act in Poland?"

I start laughing.
"What's so funny? I'm serious. You're a great guy, you speak English and Polish, there aren't many actors with these qualifications in Poland. You have a good chance".

"Sorry, you just have this drop of latte foam on your nose and that is such a surprising question. The two combined just.."

"Oh shit"

She dives into her Chanel bag and takes out a compact with the little mirror and wipes her nose.

"Leszek and I absolutely adore the Theatre. You know, we actively support cultural projects. Actually, I have a great idea! We've been invited to the premier of Famous Person's new play. How would you like to join us? I could introduce you to some very important people"

Just as I begin to respond, Daga's mobile rings and she's absorbed in the conversation.  Suddenly, she gasps Oh Jezu,

"Tom, I'm sorry, I have another appointment, enjoy the cake!" With that said she dives into her bag, pulls out another fifty zloty note and drops it on the table in front of me and trots out towards the black Porsche Cheyenne that looks like a tractor trailer next to her.

I drink the rest of my Americano, put the 50 Zloty note in my pocket and walk out into the sunshine. Then suddenly my mobile buzzes, I look at it and it's a from Daga. “Don't forget Friday Tom!!!”. I thought about the dangers of texting and driving and perhaps inserting that topic into our next English lesson.
 

Life was different in Warsaw. I was no longer a Film School drop-out sentenced to a life of anxiety and meaningless part time jobs. I mattered, I was a Native. And pretty soon a movie star ;-)

Hangin' with Warszafka

Friday night, October 2006

 I get out at Centrum, pass all the commotion. The homeless are being fed by the crazy church people. A long cue against the mediocre graffiti wall, a dude on a soapbox yells bible quotes into a megaphone. The homeless aren't interested, they want whatever these guys are giving away for free and that's it. It could be a loaf of shit with a side order of boiled cabbage, they don't give a fuck. They'll eat that shit... Literally! There is another group of people surrounding some fire jugglers. I recognize one of them. It's Jedi, a kid from my capoeira class. He's swinging a pair of those fiery balls on chains. You know what I mean, you've seen them a thousand times. If not live then high on a you-tube binge. I run through the under-path towards Chmielna. Chmielna is where the cool kids hang out. That's Nicky and his club of Polski Millionaires. A new place just opened up and him and his friends are on the guest list.

Package TOURS "from xxxtravaganza.com

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On Dyslexia, Berlin, Fall Depression and Avocado Shakes

You know Iron Man?

He’s my mother!

 Manou - Sous Chef at White Trash Fast Food, Berlin

 

 

I’m on the couch at Milch und Zucker, a busy café lunch bistro in Kreutzberg. I’m not gonna rave about how cool and diverse everything is, because you can read all about that  in practically every guide book.  People ride bikes everywhere, say Danke SHOON!  Dress in second hand clothes. The thing with second hand clothes here is that they’ve become so extremely trendy that they cost  as much as new clothes. Preposterous!!!  

stupid coffee shop

If you're ever in Berlin in the Rosa Luxemburg area avoid the cafe Il buco di Heidi. It's run by a cheap skate and his gay son. They  don't let you plug your lap top in and ask you to leave after one hour, even if you offer to buy another coffee. I'm sure this place is a front for something more hardcore, but I'm not about to play detective. See you in Berlin!!

On Racism

    Recently a friend posted a video on FB regarding racial profiling. I was sitting in a coffee shop at the time and didn't have my headphones so I only saw the video without hearing the audio. The main focus was a black male who talked a lot, wore a flashy suit and had diamond earrings. I wanted to lighten up the situation, so I commented "I don't trust him, he's got an earring and a flashy suit. He might try to sell me a shitty car for a ridiculous high price"

   I made it clear that I was merely judging him by his attire, but you just can't help but cringe       since the comment was about a black male. A week ago, I found an article that blamed people's drop in tolerance on the economic crisis and I started to wonder. A friend, who I grew up with in Canada, one of the most multicultural countries, confessed recently that  the reason why he moved to a small northern town this year so his kids wouldn't grow up around non-whites. Taking into perspective that he bought a new house and drives 50km to work every day goes to show that his intolerance is not crisis driven.


 Why is it that in this day and age, when our fridges are filled with Mexican salsa, Thai green curry sauce, frozen pierogies and Indian take-out, and our Saturday nights aren't complete without a midnight shawarma or bowl of Vietnamese pho, we still have trouble expressing respect for other people. If our stomachs can handle each other, why can’t our hearts?

http://politics.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978505262
http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/news/the-long-lawless-ride-of-sheriff-joe-arpaio-20120802

Stuff I wrote for Warsaw Insider... Unedited

TALKING HEADS...NOT THE BAND DUDE!!!

 

I live on the 4th floor of a Historic Kamienica between Chmielna and Złota in what was once the Warsaw Ghetto.  Despite its tragic and grey past, the surrounding neighbourhood has developed a positive charisma.You can really feel Warsaw's ethnic diversity blooming.
Across the street from my fabulous Kamienica is a Cukiernia called Nova, where old men sit all day solving the worlds problems over sips of cappuccino and bites of cake . I recommend the apple layer cake and custard fruit cups.
Further along, where Złota meets Aleje JP2, is what I've christened as the Molo or The Strip. It's a kind of winding walk way above an on-ramp. There's a bank, a book store, a  'Mom and Pop' pub called Frodo, where the office folk gather for lunch when fed up with food court allure. There's  an asian fusion bistro, where one can enjoy mediocre sushi at a decent price. Adjacent are, a Moldavian wine shop, and a boutique for heavy set women and an awsome Kebab where they toast your bread. It's so totally Bronx!! If you don't have wheels like in my case, the transit commute is perfect, day or night. 

But what makes 'The Strip’ rock? A hole in the wall dive called Miasto Gadających Głów (Talking Head City). . I don't even  know how to start describing this place. As filthy as it is, and as inviting and friendly, one must simply experience it in order to have an opinion.

This is a spot where the office cleaning guy and the office manager sit side by side  chasing Żołądkowa Gożka with pints of Lech. Where a real estate agent and a tattooed, dreadlocked bike currier discuss fashion faux pas, battling to hear each other, because the loud, drunk, obnoxious,  yet extremely sweet girls, all named Teresa are having a serious six woman debate about...Antonio, Rodrigo?? Whatever!

Dividing Talking head City from the actual city is a tinted picture window. You could walk  right by it without noticing if it weren't for a mini rocking horse attached to the front door.

 A recent addition to the place has been the front patio or 'Garden' as the guys who run the place call it. The Garden consists of nothing more than an old couch that's seen better days and although it was designed to accommodate no more than 4 passengers, the gifted and artistically inclined clientele have been able to  beat that record.

Open till late, I mean...late. with a punkish/vintage PRL decor, this is definitely not the place to go on your first date. If you're in a band or like to just rock out, their jam sessions every last Saturday of the month are a riot. Just don't wear clean clothes. See ya at the Head!! 

 

The Artistic Side of SEZAM

       On the south east corner of Marszałkowsa and Swiętokrzyska, just past the great big glass McDonald’s is Sezam; the oldest running department store in the city

More like an oversized and over priced American one dollar store, Sezam has it all. From groceries to socks to little clay figurines, it has been a Mecca for the ‘Moher Mafia’ (Little old ladies who wear those cute old lady barrettes) as well as the broke university student’s first choice for house-ware and other related items. If you’re staying in Warsaw a little longer than a few weeks, you’re bound to stumble upon one of the cities biggest eye soars, the Sezam window display.

http://piotrkowefotki.blogspot.com/2008/07/tyy-sdh-sezam.html

    Sezam has graced us with its tragic display skills for years. Laid out with a wacky purple velvety material, the merchandise on display makes you wonder if a tornado had blown the stuff there. At one end of the window we have a strainer, radio and sewing machine, neatly arranged together. Moving towards the centre w jewellery, broaches, earrings are complemented by a pyramid of toilette paper and stack of no name cola. Finally after passing a display of trinkets and ‘what’s-its’ we come to a flat-screen Sony with an extremely bad picture and a price-tag that would make media markt seem like a thrift shop.

Surprisingly, in the first few days of December something happened to the window display at Sezam. Another tornado burst in, this time in the form of urban artists; Matylda Sałajewska and Dominik Cymer. With their visions combined, Sałajewska and Cymer created an explosive, perhaps even controversial piece of work to accompany the release of the new media-book from the people at Radio Katowice called ‘My Som Stond’ a collection of audio, such as music, stories and broadcasts celebrating Silesian life.

Using a vast variety of sources, the artists transformed a tacky dollar store display into a work of abstract, multi-medial art.  No longer are passers by graced by fake jewellery and Tupper-Ware, they can now stop and stare, admire, or insult the various mediums the artists used to show their interpretation of Silesian life.

With cardboard and cardboard boxes as the leading source of the work it gives a raw industrial feel compatible with Silesia’s industrial heritage. Photos of coal soiled miners are displayed on stacks of boxes, there’s a cardboard rig leaning against the wall. Think the video for ‘Intergalactic’ by Beastie Boys. Even a giant beanbag chair in the shape of a ‘Kluska Slaska’ (Silesian soul food) graces us with its presence. On each end of the display we can watch images of miners working, and various other flashes of culture.

The visual aspect of the work is just one part. Most of us Warsovians, after passing the picture perfect displays of Galleria Centrum have an innate sense of looking away when approaching the Sezam window display.

Our two artists were prepared for that,  and managed to get our attention regardless, by incorporating unique audio.

So what does all this mean and symbolize you ask. Well, according to Matylda Sałajewska, her idea was ‘Silesia for sale’. Using the window display of a department store, she and Cymer along with a devoted team of artists and illustrators developed a twin concept, a visual interpretation of life in Silesia.

“Since the goal of the project was to promote Silesia, I decided to do it in the form of a shop: Silesia for sale. The material is laid out in window display fashion all representing the Silesian lifestyle.” 

Cold weather, short days, long hours at the office, all prevent us from getting up and out to enjoy the city and get cultured. Projects such as this one remind us that there are other dimensions and ideas around us, as not to box us into a repetitive, sheepish routine of the same old same old. To learn more about both artists you can see their work at www.bedzinbeat.com or check www.skin-kace.pl and www.salata.jezusmaria.pl .