An American studying medicine in the PRL 1978-1985: my story

I wonder if this is true. French...that is logical, given the fact he worked in the north of France and in Wallonia....But Dutch? I will ask around :)

Nice explanation Ziemowit, but it does not change anything in my previous statements. All I was saying was this, more or less:

The word "menu" - as applied to serving food - in Polish means "karta dań", "spis potraw" or "jadłospis". The word "menu" itself came from French (not English), its pronunciation has been altered to "meni", with the accent on the last syllable. In this sense it existed in Polish for many years before WWII and it was, as I remember it , also used in some Polish restaurants during PRL.

It is not unusual that loan words change their meaning significantly. We probably have some threads about it around.

[However, the word "menu" in a sense of a computer list of items or functions came from English. I do not know how it is pronounced by Polish computer users.]

pl.wiktionary.org/wiki/menu

I've been trying to explain it to jon357 but fruitlessly, maybe he will accept it from you unless he's got some personal issues with you like he's got with me :-)

This is what you may want to listen to one day, on a visit to "Archiwum Historii Mówionej".
[The main objective of Archiwum Historii Mówionej, Oral History Archive is commemorating the outgoing generation. To this end we engage various communities and collaborators from all over Poland to record and develop oral histories. ]

Projekt [Project]: Zapomniani świadkowie XX wieku [Forgotten witnesses of XX c.]
Wywiad przeprowadził/a [Interviewer]: Piotr Retecki
Sygnatura nagrania [Record signature]: AHM_1140
Miejsce nagrania [Recording place]: Mieroszów
Data nagrania [Recording date]: 13.01.2009
Czas nagrania [Recording time]: 02:06
Język nagrania [Language]: polski [Polish]
Nagranie do odsłuchania w Czytelni Multimedialnej Domu Spotkań z Historią
[Recording available at Multimedia Ewading Room, History Meeting House, dsh.waw.pl]
audiohistoria.pl/web/index.php/swiadkowie/nagrania/id/2327/from/ahm/idwyk/148

Opis nagrania [Description]:

Relations - Poles in France duing interbellum: customs, occupational structure.
Working class social structure, dominated by Poles employed in mining industry of North-East France, a region with the greatest density of Poles.
Living conditions: life in the mining settlements.

German occupation in France during 1940-1944: the activities of guerrilla organizations, lack of repressions typical of the German occupation of Poland - the round-ups, mass executions, ghettos, etc...

Agitation of the Polish authorities to return to Poland after 1945. The reasons for return: longing for the country that they left as children, agitation of authorities declaring that Poland is now a "paradise for all".

Living conditions: worm-infested (bed-bugs?) flats, although furnished by proprty left behind by the expelled Germans.

Social relations found in Lower Silesia: the presence of Poles from the Eastern Borderlands, France, central Poland, Westphalie, and Jewish, Greek and a large German community.

The attitude of the "French" to the contemporary reality: initial approval of the communist system by willingly joining the PPR and PPS, and then PZPR, MO, ORMO, UB, and Corps of Homeland Security.

Dissapointment associated with significantly poorer living conditions and lower cultural level of Wałbrzych land compared with Nord / Pas-de-Calais, repressions by the authorities for maintaining contact with relatives remaining in France, social conflicts with strongly anti-Communist groups, attempts to escape to France, service in the Polish People's Army in the years 1948-1980.

========
Adding what I remember about my father-in-law. He was taken from a street-round-up in Lublin and sent to Germany to work at the age of 17. After the war, he was recruited by Belgians - alongside other 23,000 new Eastern-European miners - 'displaced persons' from occupied Western German territory. He married another DP, came back to Poland in around 1960. When I met him his was so much anti-communist that his wife lived in constant fear of him being arrested due his uncontrollable mouth.

It didn't take long for Gierek to rise through the ranks, and in 1957 he was appointed as the regional head of the Communist party. He set about his task with ideological zeal, approving grandiose projects like the Spodek and Park of Culture and Recreation in Chorzów.

That was about time of intensive communist agitation among Polish miners in Belgium and France.

This reminds me of a story that a friend tells. He's a Polish man who lived in France for many years. He was sitting in a bar having a drink on his way home and eavesdropping on three French guys talking about a football match that the Polish team had won (obviously this was back in the 70s). One of the Frenchmen said "So where is Poland, is it in Russia?" The second Frenchman said "I thought it was part of Germany". The third Frenchman said "I think you're both wrong. It's much much nearer. There are two Polish guys in my factory and they come to work every day by bike".


In order to explain something, you have to understand it. If you check the thread you'll see that I was right all along and that Boletus' assessment concurs with mine. The word came into English a long, long time ago.

I have never denied, it apearde in Polish later and it came from French...

Which is exactly my point. Why are you lamely attempting to argue and hijack an otherwise interesting thread?

It is no secret that just after the war a lot of miners in Belgium were Polish. And ironically their fellow workmen were German POW.

Quite a few of the Polish miners in Belgium/France came from a socialist background - Gierek being a good example -
I think the majority regretted their emigration to Poland.

Finally, good job.

From some Belgian source (I forgot to copy URL)


What I also remember, this prompted the mine owners to negotiate new contracts with other Mediterranean countries: Greece, Spain, N. African countries. Slowly recruitment of non-ECC natives stopped, although some exceptions still existed until 1970s for Polish experts, such as mechanics. The Belgians feared communists, so they made sure not to recruit communists from Italy. North Italy seemed safe in this respect.

I know it's my doing, I started this but it's taking over my thread! lol
Can we take this to another thread please?Thanks

Oops! I agree. Mods: please erase my last posts.

Very good post.

For your daughter you should continue...do a copy -paste onto a word document after you have shared the words with us then she will have a record...believe me the time will come when she will want to know.

My Father had WWII stories and it was hard for him to share, what we learned from him is freedom is precious, he allowed no prejudice in his home, i would find him staring into space...sad....he would say only 'it was all wrong, child, it was just wrong'

My brother and i tried so often, but the Paris he saw was in ruins, the people broken....he wasn't a man to cry...but it was always there when he spoke of Europe (Poland is in Europe to our family)

Your stories reflect a healing, that you were even allowed to do what you did...go to school... attests to that.
Embrace the memories and tell us who want to hear.....children grow older, she will want to know someday.....tell your stories as you recall them, order can be acheived later.

My wonderful man of a Father has left us, my heart still aches, he took his stories and tears with him....i so wish he had shared, it may have lifted his burden.

I share you experience. My Dad too fought in the war. He won some military honors et we kids know nothing. I agree with you regarding leaving a history for my daughter. I sure would have liked one from my parents. I've constipated my memory flow by insisting I remain chronological. You may have a point in my just letting the memories flow and writing them down as they come. That just might free the logjam.

Thanks Cassandra!

btw what do you mean when you said you sensed "a healing"
This interests me your choice of that word :)

JaJa for years was denied a visa to return to his homeland then after the 1980's he was allowed to return and visit his homeland...Busha did not live to experience a return.

It 'settled' him emotionally to see Poland rebuilt and becoming strong again, there was joy in his eyes when he visited the Catherdrals of his youth, a sparkle i'd never seen before....

Therefore the term 'healing'....any time we are allowed to traverse the globe as free citizens, unencumbered by the Politics of the Nations...anytime we are able to share our worlds and cultures peacefully equals a healing of old wounds of mistrust and blame.

I remember in Wałbrzych meeting up with an old guy who was during the war a Typhoon pilot.

The melina
How many of you are familiar with the pain and frustration associated with running out of alcohol just when the party's gaining momentum? You know,

people are getting relaxed. The awkwardness of unfamiliarity begins to melt as the Wyborowa is being poured. Each successive "na zdrowie" loosening stiff anglophonic tongues. Just as shy Americans begin opening up to their equally reticent Polish hosts, those awful, nails-on-blackboard sounding words "nie ma wódki" are spoken. Those who have been there know how immediate the deflation can be. What made things worse back then was the fact that all the stores were closed by 6pm! (I think the Pewex closed an hour later) making a quick vodka run impossible.

The Polish solution? The melina, which translates into den, joint, was an after-hours vodka shop run by fellow-students, located in your dorm. How convenient!!
Everyone knew where their melina was. His room number was common knowledge. Should you forget and had no one to ask, you could always go to the portier, the lobby guy. He always knew who was selling.

The melina guy was the dealer of spirits when "just one more" was needed and you just had to have it.
You paid double but you didn't care...............I was so impressed by the business these guys were doing, that my roommate PT and I started our own.

BIG MISTAKE!
Most of the people who knocked at your door came after 2am, were stinking drunk, obnoxious and tried to stiff you!
Needless to say, our days as melina operators was shortlived................Chalk another one for experience.

Vodka is good..........spliffs are better.......yum..............

rybnik,lol

Every group has its characters and our group of Polonia was no different. Ziutek, or Barry as he like to be called, was an ebullient, fast-talking, used car salesman-of-a-guy, who always looked as if he stepped right out of a "Saturday Night Fever" movie set( open button-down silk shirt replete with thin gold chain nestled in a field of sparse chest hair). This Chicagoan by way of Poland was always happy which naturally made all us Polonians mistrustful of him. "No one can be this happy, this consistently and be worthy of trust" was the prevailing sentiment. I suspect Ziutek, pardon me, Barry was well aware of what people thought of him but as all "naturally high" people of his ilk do they keep on being happy. To hell with the rest of us! He kept on smiling, laughing and slapping backs. This thickly-accented Windy City refugee would have made a superb political operative (perhaps he is).

Despite his efforts to make us all comfortable in his presence, Barry had one disquieting feature which he was utterly powerless to control namely his one prosthetic eye. Speaking to someone with a glass eye is a very uneasy exercise. Anyone who has done it knows of what I speak. You don't know which eye to focus on! It really keeps you off balance. But you know what? As in all uneasy situations in life, one gets used to it. And so it was with us in DS Piast: we all got used to it.

The month was December, the year 1978. Both PT, my roomate, and I were stressing over the fact that neither of us had a place nailed down to spend Sylwester (New Year's Eve). "What were we going to do" we mused? "For God's sake we can't spend it here in the dorm" moaned PT! "We've got to figure something out" I remember saying nervously.

So it was like a scene from a movie. I remember shortly after saying those words, our short-statured, monocular, Slavic-accented genie-of-a-man came into our room and said " any of you kurwas want to spend Sylwester with me and my family"? Unanimously, PT and I answered "sure where does your family live"? The answer floored us. "Bukowina" he said.

My God, we're going to a Góralski Sylwester!!..............................

He was indeed very straightforward and didn`t patyczkować himself with you. :):):):