rybnik
2 May 2011
History / An American studying medicine in the PRL 1978-1985: my story [142]
Those first few months were hard. The culture shock was complete; the homesickness severe. The longing for home made its way to your bones. The worst time for me was when the sun went down. I have no idea why but after sundown I experienced an emptiness heretofore unknown to me. Many of our number sought comfort in the bottle, myself included. You thought about home. You thought about the girlfriend left behind. The regretful moments of the past began to rear their heads. "When I get out of this I'll make amends". Those were truly the loneliest times of my life.
Everything was different: the smells, the sights and the living conditions. I, for the first time, began to doubt the rational for my coming to Poland. Maybe Guadalajara or better yet, Grenada, was the real way to go. Maybe I didn't have to "suffer" communist lifestyle. Maybe, I could just leave, tell my family and friends that I tried it and didn't like it and go home. No harm, no foul!... Of course I couldn't do that. I had too much wrapped up both emotionally and financially to quit. I'm here for the duration. I'm not a quitter.
In the beginning, the Poles didn't know what to make of us and we of them. We saw them, the pensive Poles, as well-meaning people living their lives in darkness due to their oppressive Marxist overlords. We"tolerated" them reminding ourselves, that they are not to blame for the way they are (yes we were very, very patronizing of our Polish hosts during those first 12 months) and that we yanks were the enlightened ones. We would answer all their questions and try very hard not to gloat about our lives back in the States. We'll get through it. We have each other.
Those first few months were hard. The culture shock was complete; the homesickness severe. The longing for home made its way to your bones. The worst time for me was when the sun went down. I have no idea why but after sundown I experienced an emptiness heretofore unknown to me. Many of our number sought comfort in the bottle, myself included. You thought about home. You thought about the girlfriend left behind. The regretful moments of the past began to rear their heads. "When I get out of this I'll make amends". Those were truly the loneliest times of my life.
Everything was different: the smells, the sights and the living conditions. I, for the first time, began to doubt the rational for my coming to Poland. Maybe Guadalajara or better yet, Grenada, was the real way to go. Maybe I didn't have to "suffer" communist lifestyle. Maybe, I could just leave, tell my family and friends that I tried it and didn't like it and go home. No harm, no foul!... Of course I couldn't do that. I had too much wrapped up both emotionally and financially to quit. I'm here for the duration. I'm not a quitter.
In the beginning, the Poles didn't know what to make of us and we of them. We saw them, the pensive Poles, as well-meaning people living their lives in darkness due to their oppressive Marxist overlords. We"tolerated" them reminding ourselves, that they are not to blame for the way they are (yes we were very, very patronizing of our Polish hosts during those first 12 months) and that we yanks were the enlightened ones. We would answer all their questions and try very hard not to gloat about our lives back in the States. We'll get through it. We have each other.