Skin color has nothing to do with a person....I was very positively surprised about the UK black-British people, their level of education and social manners... similar story about black students in Poland
Wow, talk about a lack of self-awareness. Maybe it'll dawn on you someday that it's completely contradictory to say skin color doesn't matter, yet make comparisons based on it. Saying you were 'positively surprised' by black-British people or black students in Poland is pretty patronizing - like you're implying it's unexpected for them to be educated or well-mannered. If skin color really doesn't matter to you, then why are you using it as a factor in how you describe and evaluate others? You might want to do some deep soul-searching before lecturing anyone on this.
one Teacher with extreme views
Well, then go confront this teacher about it. Oh, that's right, you wouldn't dare and you can't afford the fare to go all the way to Berlin from Tripoli anyway. Never mind.
Nor do you have a valid viewpoint on migration in Poland
But you certainly do and it's nothing to brag about, either.
Let's take a moment to take stock of your wretched existence.
Behold the aging gay British Berber: a grumpy Brit with an ever-expanding middle-aged spread and a massive chip on his weak, feminine shoulders. He flees to Eastern Europe to escape the terrifying prospect of multiculturalism in the UK because who would want to live in a society that actually includes people from different backgrounds? Hoping for a serene, homogeneous paradise, and bargain-basement cost of living, the gay British Berber is immediately disillusioned to discover that Eastern Europe is too homogeneous, and the social programs there don't cater to foreign grifters like himself. Cue the existential crisis!
Hungry and angry but not one to let his discomfort go to waste, the gay British Berber decides to open an "English Language School" as a way to make a quick buck, all while spitefully hoping to inflict multiculturalism on a place he barely tolerates, and which barely tolerates him. The school, of course, is a front for smuggling migrants into Europe because what better way to get back at a society that won't let him fit in than by turning it into a microcosm of the very thing he left behind? It's a lucrative racket but not enough to soothe his deep-seated bitterness.
When the authorities shut him down, the gay British Berber switches tactics, moving to North Africa and the Middle East to aid and abet illegal immigration, all while basking in the smug satisfaction that he's somehow "helping" Europe become the diverse utopia he's always dreamed of - while still refusing to live in it himself.
But with Brexit complicating everything, the gay British Berber finds himself living like his nomadic ancestors - scrambling between countries, evading border regulations, and searching for new ways to access state provided welfare while keep his money flowing into his offshore accounts, all while staying just one step ahead of the tax authorities. In the end, his sad little scheme reveals the true tragedy: an old lonely gay man so desperate to impose multiculturalism on everyone else, yet too terrified to ever actually live in it. A laughably misguided, tragically unfulfilled journey toward a "world of his own making" - but, spoiler alert, it's mostly just a mess of his own contradictions!