Email from Reference.me - my apologies

I would like to apologise for the recent unsolicited email possibly sent to you in my name from the new site 'Reference.me' which I was testing. I did not ask it to send out any emails, it was done without my consent or knowledge.

I did remove my account from the site and intend to never use it again. I promise to take all steps necessary to protect my address book from similar sites in the future. I hope that the email did not cause any disruption to your work.

Please accept my apologies.

Best regards
Rafal Goralski

Georgia

Since the shocking news about the Russian involvement in the conflict between Georgia and South Ossetia broke and disturbed the Olympic opening ceremony my mood was greatly decreased. That's because I suspected that the situation may get much worse than most people then believed, and because of the consequences of that. When on the following Monday my friend asked why I was so depressed I told her about my worst predictions. But since then it got even worse because now I know they were true and I was unfortunately right. What I told her was that Russia is going to occupy Georgia and take the Ossetia and Abkhazia from it. And that the West will look at it and do nothing but talking. If I was younger I would still believe it could be different. But the life teaches that everybody minds just his own business, and that one who is attacked by the strongest guy in the neighbourhood is always left alone.

Now someone could ask, why does that matter so much for a Polish guy anyway? And the answer would be that it is not just the compassion which I feel to poor civil people of all the sides of the conflict, who have to pay the highest price for the decisions of politicians they did not even vote for. It is mostly for the possible - and as it seems inevitable - consequences of the laziness and lack of guts of the weak western leaders. It is that if nothing changes no former country from the Soviet block will be safe anymore. Including not just Ukraine but also members of NATO and EU such as Estonia, Lithuania, Latvia and Poland. The situation is known from the history and it takes just enough imagination that I unfortunately have to predict how it all may evolve in the next few years. Let's first analyse what my predictions are based on. First - the overly strong believe in the declarations of friends and allays seems exactly the same cause of defeat as it happened in case of the Warsaw Uprising in 1944. The so called word powers are too occupied with their own business to really care about a small country somewhere in a distant part of the world. They need good relationships with Russia and will not risk them for stupid democratic ideals, which are just good to delude their citizens. In fact it is all about money and power, the ideals are no match for that. Second - the lack of strong reaction to growing aggression of a psychopathic tyrant resembles the situation with Hitler growing in power before the WWII. The problems started when he grew too big, but then it was a bit too late. Every doctor knows that prevention is always cheaper and more effective than fight with developed illness. Everyone knows that. Except for politicians. The cause for that is their wishful thinking and inability to face the hard truth. They prefer to believe that deep in his heart Putin is a democrat and that he is their friend. And even when he speaks clearly that he wants the Soviet Union back they seem to hear something else.

But Putin is an extremely clever player with clear goals. What are these goals no-one except him knows for sure. But my suspicion is that they are not good for so called western democracy and anybody but Putin and part of Russian officials and politicians. They are bad for citizens of western countries, and what is nothing knew also bad for common Russians. Tsars never cared about their people. Putin has been probing the West for quite some time. Whether it was stopping the supplies of gas in quarrels with Belarus, stopping import of Polish or European meat, throwing cyber-attacks against Estonia, or killing a British citizen in London, he was observing the reaction and keeping his eye on the ball. Slowly but cleverly, step-by-step testing the limits. He was dividing the European Union, buying prominent western politicians (like the former Chancellor of Germany), and building his political power. Now is the time of the ultimate test. The reaction to the attack on Georgia will be crucial for determination of his further actions. If it continues to be the farce of empty talks and declarations, or even shameless support for Putin from somebody who should know better (President of Czech Republic) and trying to calm the situation by proposing unfair peace treaties he will grow stronger. Who can be next? Ukraine (whose eastern half naturally gravitates towards Russia)? Estonia (with 30% of Russian citizens who also may suddenly start to feel very oppressed)? Lithuania? Poland? And if something happens will the NATO help? Or will it be again just empty talks and ineffective mediations? Will the western politicians see their interest more in Russian oil and bribes payed them by NordStream and Gazprom than in protecting their fellow member states? Will they believe the Russian propaganda that it was not them who started the conflict and that they had to protect their citizens? Or will they finally face the reality? And will it not be too late?

I hope to never have to see that. It is still not too late to stop the lunatic who is responsible for all that trouble. But will the West have balls? Sadly I am rather a pessimist.

The Silent Night of Santa Claus

It was a lovely winter night. Steam was flying out of mouths of the reindeer speeding in the freezing air. Fresh white snow was crunching under the runners. The town looked fabulous in the moonlight with its little streets and cosy houses, roofs and gardens, lawns and trees all covered with the white snow. Windows were dark and everything seemed quiet, as all people already went to sleep. Santa Claus smiled at the sight as his sleigh rode across the town. He stopped a few streets later, stretched his arms and looked around. 'Wait for me here, my deer reindeer' - he said, and unloaded a heavy bag from his sleigh. The old man lifted it with effort, placed on his back and walked towards the nearby house.

A little boy called Calvin was waiting here for his toy. 'In few moments he shall get it', thought Santa as he prepared to jump into the chimney. Yes, chimney. Chimney? But wait a minute, where is his favourite entrance? The house had no chimney! 'No chimney, look at that', he turned his head in disbelief? 'No chimney. So what? Big deal' - thought the red man. 'That sure can't stop me'. Santa Claus walked around the house looking for a possible solution. And then he found it! A little top window was slightly opened. Piece of cake! He whispered a spell and slowly sailed up. In just a few seconds he was there trying to put his hand inside. But as soon as his hand crossed the invisible line of the house interior his ears soared in a sudden unbearably loud sound. Yellow light was fiercely turning around. Shocked and completely panicked Santa lost his concentration. Falling down did really hurt. He stood up, grabbed his bag and quickly run away. When he was good few hundred yards from the house he stopped, and rubbing his sore bottom looked at the little house. Seems Calvin will not get his toy today. Well, the heck, he wasn't that good after all.

Of course a little failure like that couldn't put Santa Claus off. Soon he was approaching another lovely house. His heart was already warm with love towards the lovely little siblings who lived there. 'Matt and Charlotte, worry not, here I am with some great toys for you'! Santa jumped onto the roof with one smooth move and knitted his brows at the sight of the chimney. It was unusually small and thin. Interested he moved his hand towards the chimney's mouth, yes it was hot and there was some smoke coming out, so it seemed to work. 'Well, everything changes, that's called the progress' – he thought. He used a special spell to extinguish the fire, shrunk, slimmed (fast) and disappeared inside. It didn't take even a second as he burst out with long-drawn-out scream of pain. 'What was that thing?!' The fire was down but there was no way to get out, and it was so bloody hot inside! He should have known better. That's why the chimney was so strange! It was a chimney of a boiler! Santa quickly sat on the snow to ease his pain. It took a few minutes for him to calm down. Should he try to find another way in? Matt and Charlotte were waiting… Well, to hell with them. They caused their parents a lot of troubles, and were not that good after all.

Santa Claus was walking through the snow, and thinking. Sure such a little failure shouldn't put him off. Another house was nearby. A little, beautiful girl named Sally awaited there. She was a good girl according to his records, and so she deserved a toy. But after the last try he lost a bit of his enthusiasm. Still… Three times a charm. He will give it a one more try. When he was there he looked carefully. No windows were open. A strange thin chimney like before. But wait, also a normal, usual chimney was there! Finally! Now the fun begins. With his enthusiasm and hope coming back to his heart he landed next to it. He readjusted his back and when he was ready to jump he cast the spell. At the very last moment he realized something was wrong. The heat and some light were still going out of the mouth. What the hell? He looked inside and repeated the charm. Still no change. Carefully he put his head inside. Was there a real fire? No… it seemed electric. That explained a lot. So he couldn't use the entrance, again. Then he heard a quiet noise behind. He turned around and saw a beautiful black cat, staring straight at him. Santa stretched his hand towards his unexpected companion. He loved cats and cats loved him. The cat started to purr. Then out of sudden Santa lost his balance and felt down. Again. Second time this night. His bag hit the ground next to him. That was clearly enough. Seems Sally will not get her toy. Well, was she really that good?

He was trying to stand up with intention to go straight back to his beloved reindeer when the doors opened slightly with a little creak. A small head appeared in the door frame. 'Will you get in? I wouldn't like you to hurt yourself' – Sally said. Not everything was lost after all. Santa slowly entered the house and looked around the saloon. Electric fireplace was pretending the real fire. Huge and nicely decorated Christmas tree was standing in the corner, lit by colourful lights. Beautiful, cosy, what a great atmosphere – his mood was improving quickly. Then the girl asked: 'So you are that actor hired by my parents? Where is my Wii?' 'What? I am not an actor! I am Santa Claus!' 'Yeah. Now you will try to make me believe in Santa. And what else, dwarfs maybe? Do I look like stupid?' 'Hey, Sally – you see – I know your name. How would I know it if I wasn't the Santa?' 'Of course you know it. My parents have told you. So where is my Wii?' 'Wee? Do you want a wee? Why wont you just…' 'Hey, please don't play stupid. It offends my intelligence. Just give it to me and we both will be happier. Don't you have another assignments? Well, maybe not if we look at you…' 'Yes, I have a toy for you. It is truly great. It's somewhere here' – he was searching the bag with his hand. 'Here it is' – he took out and proudly presented a big wooden doll. 'What? What is it? Was I not good or what?' – the girl seemed very disappointed, and a bit angry. 'Oh, now I will have to have a serious conversation with my parents. First they send an old, poorly dressed, clumsy actor, who insists that he is the Santa Claus. Then this. C'mon, did they really ask you to give me this, or did you steal my Wii for you children?' 'Steal your wee? Don't be absurd. And look, that's a really great toy. It's made of real best quality wood from the North Pole. Hand-made, by dwarfs.' 'There are no trees on the North Pole, stupid. And no dwarfs. Do you suggest Santa too exploits children, paying them peanuts for their labour?' 'I don't pay them at all, they work with enthusiasm, because they love their work and children.' 'Yeah, sure. That's called slavery!' 'Ok, enough. Do you want your toy or not?' 'Well… it doesn't look too good, does it? Sure I will not show it to my mates at school' – the girl seemed to be thinking aloud. 'But ok, if it is so important to you. My parents have paid for that after all. But you say you are the real Santa. So you are from Finland. If not Nintendo then couldn't you bring me at least a good phone from Nokia?' – she decided to give it a last try. 'I am not from Finland, but from Lapland, stupid. And if you don't want it you won't. Open the door for me please' – Santa was over the edge. Then the door bell ringed. Sally went to answer and the man put the doll back to his bag and listened. 'Hello, officer Kelly Kruger from the City Police. Sorry for coming so late, but I saw the light. Did you see anything suspicious?' 'And what would that be officer, has anything happened?' 'We had a call about a burglar dressed for Father Christmas trying to get to a nearby house.' 'A burglar dressed for Father Christmas? On the Christmas night? That would be so creative. A burglar. But wait a minute… A burglar!' When they both burst into the living room all they saw was a wide opened window with curtains moving slowly in the cold night air.

.....

Santa was so angry he hardly could see. He was walking hurriedly trying to calm down. Sally was such a stupid, arrogant chit. What have happened to children nowadays? She didn't like his toys. She wanted a wee. Phi, how a wee can be better than his great hand-made toys? And she thought he was from Finland. Sure she couldn't be good in geography. Stupid smarty pants, he thought. She completely spoiled his humour. And he seemed to be completely out of luck tonight. Another failure. He angrily kicked a nearby stone. The silence was cut by the sound of breaking glass. That shook him out of thinking. 'The police. They still are nearby. I should better hurry' - he said to himself and run towards his sleigh. And then he saw something that struck him with amazement and anger. Nothing like that has happened in hundreds of years. This people clearly had no respect! One of his runners was... clamped. Right, the nearby board said something about residents only, but that was a Christmas night, and he was the Santa Claus! He really had enough. First all that failures, then Sally, and now this. It overfilled the cup of anger. If a few seconds ago he was not sure what to do, now he had no doubts. 'Spadaj durna klemo, spieprzaj dziadu!' - he shouted one of the most powerful and mysterious ancient Lappish spells. The clamp disappeared. He swung his bag to the back of his vehicle and grabbed the reins. 'Wiśta!' – he commanded. 'Go my dear reindeer! Fly away! Fly towards home, to the North Pole!' Reindeer started rapidly, snow burst from their hoofs. The sleigh turned around in the air and in just a few seconds disappeared in the sky.

This Christmas all children waited for the Santa Claus in vain. None of them got their long-awaited presents. But a lot of them had a wee.

Happy Holiday!

It was a lovely winter evening. The main shopping street was full of colourful lights, snow flakes dancing in the air, laughter and hubbub of the pre-Christmas rush. Nothing seemed to be able to disturb it.

Santa Claus was full of energy. He was rubbing his hands with excitement and rushing his legs while approaching the town centre with its beautiful shopping street. This year he couldn't stand waiting for, as they called it jokingly in his Lappish headquarters, the Great Final so he left a few days early and decided to see what's happening in the city. Yet he was not fully prepared for the amazing view that appeared when he took the last turn. He could not help but to stop and gasp with amazement. The street was richly lit and decorated, Christmas trees were placed everywhere, colourful stars were looking at him from shopping windows full of wonderful presents. Beautiful music could be heard from all the directions. Most of people wore red hats with white pompoms, children were screaming with excitement while dragging parents from one shop to another or to one of a plenty of man dressed like... him. He didn't notice it at first but the street was full of fake Santa Clauses, sitting next to Christmas trees with huge heaps of colourful boxes with presents. Well... it certainly couldn't put him off. He was the real one, and so he had nothing to fear from his wishy-washy competition. He readjusted his huge backpack and walked with confidence to one of few empty places, that were not used by ubiquitous disguise wearers. Now he just had to wait for his beloved children that will soon surround him with laughter, delight, rhymes, and happiness.

Yet something was wrong. Not quite as he expected. Children seemed not interested in him, while still gathering around the other red-dressed men. What was going on? A small girl was running just next to him - 'Hey little girl, Merry Christmas!' - he shouted. She didn't even slow down or look at him. 'Hey boy, yes you! Merry Christmas! What, don't go there, come to Santa...' Too late, the boy was gone. 'Hey miss, do your children want to see Santa?' No response. '祝圣诞节快乐！' - tried desperately towards a Chinese lady passing nearby. Still no luck. WTF? He looked around once again. A nearby shopping window reflected his statue. And then he realised. His old dress that served him for so many years was a bit dim and worn-out. Nothing to compare with the fresh and vivid redness of the fakers (or should he rather say f...ers?). He didn't have colourful boxes. His toys were all the best quality, hand-made from real Scandinavian wood, best for children development. Yet they didn't look so catchy. He definitely needed a promotion. 'Ho ho ho!!! Merry Christmas Everybody!!!' shouted with his loud and deep voice. Several people looked at him. 'Merry Christmas!!!' repeated even louder. Some people looked at him with disguise. And then rushed even further from him. 'Merry Christmas!!!' - the last try. Same reaction. One guy even tapped his forehead. So it was a time for the change of plan. He took several toys out of his backpack. 'Hey boy, want a toy?' Stretched his arm holding a wooden reindeer towards a little boy. All he got was a shrug of the shoulders. 'Merry Christmas to you'. 'Hey girl a doll for you?' - asked a girl dressed in pink. The girl stepped closer, looked at the doll and then said - 'That's not a Barbie. Thanks, but do I look like I collect wooden trash? Happy Holiday, grandpa'. And she turned her back.

Suddenly someone tapped his arm. He looked back and struck down. A couple of policemen - a young woman and an older man - were looking down at him. 'Hey old man, get up'! 'What is it, officer'? - he asked. 'Several people complained that you were shouting offensive words'. 'Me???'. 'Yes you. Were you not saying Merry Christmas'? 'Yes, but, for God's sake, what's wrong with that??'. 'What's wrong with that???' - the young officer looked like stung by a wasp. 'You hurt religious feelings of some of our citizens, that's what's wrong!'. 'But my dear child, I just said...'. 'We know all too well what you have said! Such a lack of thoughtfulness and disrespect to other religions! You should have said Happy Holiday! And if you call me like that again you will be charged for sexual harassment with a tendency to pedophilia!'. 'What? Sexual harassment? Pedophilia? But I am the Santa Claus... and it is not just a holiday, it's Christmas!'. One look at her face was enough to realize that now he have evidently said too much. 'Enough!' - said the lady. 'You have admitted to the hatred speech and now you will go with us' - she reached for the handcuffs. 'Hatred speech, give me a brake...' - he whimpered with the last remaining of his suddenly disappearing energy, his voice was thin and quiet. 'Yes, we know people like you. It starts with disrespect and offending people of other religions, and then it goes to criticism of the most fundamental human rights and values, like euthanasia, abortion, marriages of same gender and their right to the adoption of children. I am glad we have prevented this, you fascist!'. Then they took him under his arms and dragged him to the police car, which slowly moved towards the road and soon disappeared. It was a lovely winter evening. The main shopping street was full of colourful lights, snow flakes dancing in the air, laughter and hubbub of the pre-Christmas rush. The peace was back. Now really nothing and nobody could disturb it.

....

Strong light dispersed the darkness of the forest road and soon the police car stopped near a small clearing a few hundred yards from the border of the city. The massive steel door moved aside with long creaking. A man's voice broke the silence. 'Uncuff him!'. 'But Sir, he has just...' - a female protested. 'Uncuff him!' - repeated the man with voice that demanded full obedience - 'That's an order'. And then the man said quietly with much warmer tone 'I used to love when you came to me during Christmas' - the tone of voice got even warmer towards the end of the sentence, as if the man smiled on this memory. 'But now Santa, please just go. And stay away from troubles'. Soon the car turned around and disappeared in the night leaving the old man alone with his heavy backpack and thoughts.

Echa polityki - trochę humoru

Z forum dyskusyjnego na portalu Onet.pl:

WRÓCIŁEM NA WYBORY DO POLSKI CHCIAŁEM GŁOSOWAC NA PIS ALE
jak wyjeżdżałem w 2005 roku ser żółty kosztował 12 zł kg
dzisiaj 25 zł kg! Moi rodzice emeryci dostali podwyżkę emerytury 30 zł w ciągu dwóch lat za mieszkanie płaca o 159 zł więcej! A posłowie dołożyli sobie po 3000 zł miesięcznie na utrzymanie biura poselskiego! NIE GŁOSUJE NA PIS NA ICH SOLIDARNE PAŃSTWO! W ciągu dwóch lat zrobili z moich rodziców bardzo ubogich ludzi...

Jedna z odpowiedzi:

To nic. W 2005 BMW 5 tka kosztowała 175 tys zł a teraz 218 000 zł . I jak tu żyć ?

~poseł, 11.10.2007 20:09

:)

Little games of Arriva Trains Wales

From time to time I have to use a local train to get from Cardiff to my beloved University in Treforest. I don't like using trains for few reasons. They are not very nice, not safe, dirty, slow, not reliable and seldom on-time, often overcrowded and without an exception always outrageously overpriced. A 20-minutes and about 10 miles travel costs about 5 GBP. For this price in Poland I could get 120 miles from Warsaw to my home town of Bialystok in a comfortable fast train. Leaving pondering over the sense of such public transport pricing policy and its influence on cars usage and environment aside, there is a way of making this a little bit more bearable. If you are a student you can get a Student Card (you have to pay for it) which entitles (you'd expect that wouldn't you? - well not quite as we will see) to some discount. Providing you are not unlucky to have to start your classes early and can take a train after 9.30 am. Then the price drops immensely to as little as 2.80.

Arriva Trains Wales, as a company of such great reputation and renowned quality of services attracts only the best and most skilled employees. A better part of these are working as conductors. Their role is to open the doors on every station, and in the meantime wander around checking and selling tickets. Their smiles and warm attitude towards passengers further improve the overall impression of the Company. Their work is really needed as travellers don't have to worry about buying a ticket on a station while missing their train. But there is a catch. There is a rule written somewhere deep in the regulations that if a station you are getting at has a Ticket Office you have to get your ticket there, and if you fail and buy your ticket from a train staff you will pay the regular price. The rule almost no one knows about, and which is almost never used. This way, by having a mysterious rule that Student Card users are not aware of the train staff gained a powerful weapon helping them punish some bad behaviour of this group of passengers and protect their dignity, fight with frustration and show who is really in power here.

I travel with a bike (that's a nice thing about this trains - it is allowed and you don't need to pay extra). Today the train didn't have a place for bikes, so I sat humbly at the end of the car at the almost empty part of corridor trying to keep it close to me to occupy as little space as possible - so someone could pass if he wanted. Unluckily I didn't notice that the rear wheel was slightly blocking the doors to the other car. And when the lady from the ATW wanted to enter the car she had to knock the doors for few seconds to make me notice that. Unfortunately she was not in a particularly good mood. And so she decided to take her little revenge. First she reminded me how inappropriate a place I have chosen for the bike, and suggested that, because she is going to move this way and back all the time I should move to the opposite side of the car. I would have to get through a long corridor occupied with people what made it almost impossible, and she was going towards that direction, so it really had no sense. Then she sold a ticket to a girl on my left. Student at a discounted price. When it was my turn she asked me where I am going, one way or return, and she issued a ticket for me.

Without giving me even a word of explanation she gave me just 30p of change from my 5 pound note, while I was expecting 2.20. When I said "Excuse me, is that all change I should get?" she said with victorious smile "Yes, because you didn't buy your ticket at Cathays, and there is a Ticket Office". Which is only partially true, as it is only on one side of the tracks, and no one bothers to go through steep steps and across the walk bridge twice just to buy a ticket if he can do it on the train. Especially when he has a heavy bike and has to catch a train. I told her that, but she kept on smiling and was obviously proud of herself. I told her she was not playing fair and was just taking revenge, because she didn't like the place I've chosen for my bike. She denied. But it must have been a good stroke, as the next poor guy she moved too had to pay 4.70 as well. And as she had to convince her that it wasn't unfair and personal, every other student in that car was from now on paying the full price. I felt really bad for bringing a bad luck to all of them.

As for blocking her passage and her suggestions for me to change the place she never come back until I got off. She also had to make up for her laziness and incompetence, as she was too slow to check and sell tickets to everybody before Treforest. If I would have chosen the opposite side I would be much better off indeed. I wouldn't have a chance to pay for the ticket at all - but avoiding paying wasn't my intention. The train was slowing and it was time to leave. I looked at the girl on my left. She was smiling, happy that she bought her ticket before the lady started her little game. Other students looked like children whose lolly pops got stolen. Except for a few freeloaders at the back of course.

Now I don't want to say that the rule has no sense. It has some as in theory it should encourage people to get their tickets at the station, and hence have an effect in decreasing the number of those who don't pay for their travels (conductors are sometimes too lazy to show up). But if it was to work the rule should be both clear and commonly known, and respected in a consistent manner.

Wynajem mieszkania

Dwa dni temu dałem ogłoszenie - ofertę wynajmu mojego mieszkania w Warszawie. Przypomniało mi to o mailu jaki otrzymałem kiedy szukałem najemcy poprzednim razem, rok temu:

Chcałobym zapitac o mieszkania u

Warszawa, Ursus, Górna Droga

54 m2, 2 pokoje .po widzłem na ofercie .

jesztem wienaczykiem poszukam mieszkania oko tej oklice .cos porosze o dzwonic pod numer.504xxxxxx dzienkuje

Niestety mieszkanie było już wynajęte, więc nie udało mi się pogłębić przyjaźni polsko-wietnamskiej. Cytat oryginalny i w pełni autentyczny (z wyjątkiem cenzury numeru;)

Exotic-clubbers and sex-obsessed perverts

In the last post I said I would write about another category of people, who travel to exotic places just to have as much fun as possible. Before I start I must admit that I don't know too much about them, so it is not a deep and scientifically profound study. I was never one of them and don't know anyone from this group well. I just met them several times on my way, and made some observations.

I think that there should be another distinction made before I go further into describing my experience. It seems that there are two major groups of fun lovers - depending how they define "fun". Those who travel for drinking/music/dance/drugs and sex, and those who travel just or mainly for sex. The first group is made of more-or-less normal young people, who sadly are often of not the highest moral/cultural standards. The second group seems to be made of people who have unsatisfied sexual needs and have to go to places like Thailand and use their money to satisfy them. Either because they are too old/ugly/fat/inept/name-it to find an attractive sexual partner, or what is much worse because they are too perverted to risk making their sick fantasies come true at home, in fear of being cursed by the society and going to jail. It is not difficult - or should I rather say - it is difficult not to, spot a fat old westerner with a very young boy or girl cuddled to his chest at a beach in Phuket or Pattaya. That category deserves much more serious studies and is related to such atrocious crimes as sexual exploitation of children. My intention for this post was to write about lets call them "exotic-clubbers", not the perverts. There is a lot of good quality material regarding the others on the Internet, and that deserves to be treated with much deeper and knowledgeable insight than I could ever claim to provide.

So lets focus on "exotic-clubbers". What do I know about them? Not much to be frank, I just had a doubtful pleasure of sharing a 4-bed dorm with them recently. They can be met in any major city in Asia. In Thailand they gather in Bangkok. In China their promised land is Shanghai. And that is where I had my sad experience.

I made a very bad choice regarding the hostel I was staying in (a blind choice, to be fair). The localization was great - 10 minutes walk to the Bund, about the same to the East Nanjing Rd metro station. But that also determined the kind of people who stayed there - as that meant also 10 minutes walk to the best places for prostitutes and other noble means of entertainment. This and the fact that this appalling hostel is regarded as the best in town by the newest edition of the Lonely Planet guidebook, a Holy Bible and the Oracle for the western travellers. I should admit though that most of the people there were normal. Some of them were really great, like the group of young medicine graduates from Poland travelling around rural areas of China for 6 weeks, that I met accidentally at the Bund, before it turned out we were staying in the same place. Maybe it was just my bad luck that the ones in my room were different.

Before you move to the next post, that will follow shortly, to read about my experience, please make sure you are over 21 (you may check your ID to make sure) and mentally prepared for some drastic scenes.

Zwierzenia anonimowego alkoholika

Dopiero co zacząłem pisać tego bloga, a już mam kryzys twórczy (trochę za duże słowo w użyciu do bloga;). Właściwie jest to bardziej nawrót problemu sprzed wyjazdu. No bo fajnie jest gdzieś pojechać, oderwać się od codziennego życia, od problemów, powziąć nowe postanowienia i mieć naprawdę silne przekonanie że pewne rzeczy chce się zmienić. Ale od tego rzeczone problemy nie znikną. Może to być pierwszy i bardzo cenny krok na drodze do zmiany, ale droga ta jest długa, wyboista i kręta. I kilka pierwszych kroków to za mało żeby odtrąbić sukces.

Ale jaki mam problem i jaka jest jego geneza? Prawdopodobnie jest to właściwe pytanie, od którego trzeba zacząć każdą, nawet prowadzoną domowymi metodami, terapię ;). Zaraz po przyznaniu, że "Nazywam się Rafał B. i mam problem". Od pewnego czasu w moim życiu zapanował marazm. Nie od razu, ale stopniowo wkradał się do mojego życia sprawiając że z fazy skrajnego optymizmu i pełni energii znalazłem się w głębokim dołku. I z człowieka znanego nie tylko ze śmiałych pomysłów, ale i ze skuteczności w ich realizacji, zmieniłem się w kogoś kto pomysły wciąż ma (choć słabsze) ale w żaden sposób nie umie się zmobilizować żeby je zrealizować. Dlatego założenie tego bloga to wielki krok naprzód i jeden mały sukces. Ale jedna jaskółka nie uniesie kokosa, tzn. nie czyni wiosny.

Kontynuując te zwierzenia alkoholika postaram się opisać problem nieco mniej abstrakcyjnie. Dwa lata temu rozpocząłem pewien duży projekt, dla którego przeniosłem się z Warszawy do Cardiff. Mam jeszcze rok żeby go skończyć. Okazało się jednak że nie jest to tak fascynujące jak marzyłem i chyba z tego rozczarowania wynika moja bierność. Projekt owszem, jest niezwykle ciekawy jak na pracę badawczą, kiedy o nim opowiadam albo prezentuję wyniki na konferencjach ludziom aż świecą się oczy. Wtedy nawet we mnie pojawia się ulotna iskra entuzjazmu. Ale wiem, że ten czas mógłbym wykorzystać lepiej, robiąc coś ciekawszego poza światem akademickim i przynoszącego obiektywnie lepsze efekty i ta wiedza mnie osłabia. Projekt posuwa się nieźle, ale znalazł się w miejscu w którym albo zacznę traktować go poważnie i się zaangażuje, albo zmarnuję kolejny rok i będę musiał ogłosić klęskę. Nie chcę rezygnować po zaangażowaniu 2 lat. Ale nie chcę też stracić 3go roku. Więc naprawdę muszę wziąć się w garść.

Właściwie ten post miał być o czymś innym, tylko że nigdy nie da się przewidzieć dokąd pobiegną niesforne myśli. Miało być o miałkości mediów i o tym jak zabijają wyobraźnię i kreatywność. Bo sporą częścią istoty mojego problemu jest marnowanie czasu na rzeczy bezsensowne i ogłupiające - mianowicie na czytanie newsów w mediach elektronicznych. Niby dobrze wiedzieć co się na świecie dzieje. A jednak miałkość informacji które można przeczytać na stronach Onetu czy Gazety jest osłabiająca. Szczególnie jeśli chodzi o sytuację w kraju. No i to odnosi się bardziej do mojego obecnego kryzysu. Bo wracając z Chin miałem głowę pełną wrażeń, pomysłów, obrazów, wspomnień, niezwykłych spotkań, twarzy i zdarzeń. Miałem wielką chęć opisania części z przeżytych przygód i emocji. I postanowienie że nie będę biernym konsumentem informacji, że będę spędzał czas w sposób twórczy. Tymczasem po 2 tygodniach wpadłem w dawną rutynę. A zalew miałkich informacji z kraju przysypał emocje które tkwiły w mojej głowie. I po czytaniu przez kilka godzin co powiedział Premier o Tusku, a co Prezydent agitował na Jackowie, kto kogo nie lubi i kim gardzi nie jestem w stanie wprowadzić się w stan kreatywny i twórczy.

Dlatego postaram się zrobić eksperyment. Jutro będzie dzień bez Onetu i Gazety. Bez względu na to czy będę pracował nad moim projektem, czy pisał, spędzę go w sposób twórczy. I to będzie mój pierwszy dzień bez alkoholu. Mam problem. Jestem alkoholikiem. Nie piję, dzień zero. Na metę, start.

How to stay at home, despite having to travel

I know many people who dream about traveling, meeting new people, learning about new cultures and customs, who are curious and have an unsatisfied passion for learning the world. The passion that they can't realize for various reasons: work, family, health, money. They usually ask themselves a question: How to go somewhere without leaving home? They find an answer in grabbing a good book, reading National Geographic or watching exotic places on TV.

On the other side there are some privileged people who do travel, but the same question has an opposite and opaque meaning when applied to them: How to stay at home despite having to travel? They go somewhere, but seemingly would prefer not too. I don't know what made these people travel. Maybe it is a trend, something that improves your coolness factor, something to impress your mates. Thankfully the modern technology and globalization made it possible.

During my last trip to China several times I stayed in popular Lonely Planet-recommended youth hostels, full of young westerners. These hostels offer one great service, that wasn't provided even in the 5 star hotel I was staying at in Wulumuchi (or Urumqi). Free access to the Internet: WiFi and several free-to-use PC desktops. Most of people found that very useful and were using it to send a quick email, etc. But it was kinda shocking to see that quite many were spending long hours just browsing the web, looking at new Nike shoes or writing posts on their friends' walls in Facebook. Many of them use trendy iBooks, and never take white headphones out of their ears. I saw two girls who whenever I entered the hostel were glued to computers, and after some time I could tell without even looking that they were using Facebook.

Now, I love the technology, and appreciate the way it changes the world and the value it brings to our lives. But I remember traveling when there were no even mobile phones. And I think it was great. When someone traveled he knew why he was doing it. Great, intelligent, passionate people were trying to meet locals, see as many museums as they could, go to tiny back streets, eat local food, learn the language, etc. They still are doing so. But now there is a growing group that really should better stay at home. Because all they do is changing the decorations. With more or less the same effect as changing the wallpaper in their computers. Which they could do without spending thousands on flights and adding extra pollutions to the atmosphere.

There are of course also upsides to that. Local businesses get a lot of extra income, hostels thrive, travel services gain lots of customers, local restaurants (especially if they sell western food) are making a good profit. So maybe it is not so bad. It is just another face of globalization.

There is one more category of the people who travel. These who travel for fun. They sleep all day and go out to clubs at night. They are usually gathering in big cities. That's an interesting story too, but I will get back to it some other time.

The Echoes of China

Coming back from a trip is a difficult thing. I don't mean the physical return, but finding our own place in the everyday's life after a long absence. After my last trip to China, which was only three weeks long I couldn't really accommodate at home and get back to work. Too many memories, too many people met on the way, too many thoughts, reflections and plans made. When I was away I discovered a lot about myself, saw my life from a perspective and realized that several things needed to be changed. Perhaps the anxiety after coming back was caused by need to face the question - will these plans and resolutions fit the reality?

Now, after almost two weeks at home I feel much better. I am committed to keep the determination and change the things that were stopping me from doing what I really wanted, and the lack of which made my life seem dull, and not fully satisfactory. And to introduce the changes that I realized were necessary to allow me to progress as a person and achieve meaningful goals. I decided to spend more time among the people, to take more photos, to start writing - hence the blog, to be more serious about my work. For the first time in my life I managed to compose and record a song. It seems my creativity is slowly coming back. But it is not easy to keep it that way.

Thankfully there are certain things that can give us an unexpected hand. Today I didn't have anything to eat at home. I went to the kitchen and found a mysterious green plastic bag. I opened it and found a big blend of dried kiwi fruits, which I bought in the Muslim Quarter in Xi'an. It had a surreal feeling, as I already hardly believed that I really was there. Then I sat to the computer and found another, even nicer surprise. An email from a charming and extremely kind Chinese girl I met in Hangzhou. I will have to write about this magic day, which I spent with three accidentally met young Chinese, walking around the West Lake in the pouring rain. The day that turned out to be one of my best days in China, despite the fact that I was all wet, didn't see anything, didn't take almost any pictures, and was almost all the time shaking from cold. But that's a long story, so perhaps another time.

Now I will just say that the Chinese girl made a great gift by her email, unwittingly reminding me about all that I promised myself, and helping me stay focused on my goals. I don't know characters for her Chinese name (it would be something like Tsan Dzan Len), but her English name is Echo. So thank you Echo, for the great day in Hangzhou, for your kindness, and for your email that echoed all that to me.