
fot. bkj.photography
My first reaction on the news of the crash was a disbelief, which given the extent of the tragedy seemed natural. Astonished, I have turned into a silent witness watching how a small stream of news on the bottom of the screen turns into the rapid, wild river of special reports, breaking news, and live interviews. Since Saturday, I was trying to write something clear, transparent and most of all accurate. I asked myself what has really happened and what to expect in a near future? I couldn’t get an answer. I was paralysed, but not by grief or sorrow, but by a deep, multilevel confusion.
First source of this disarray was in media, both national and international. I was expecting that polish broadcasts will be totally dominated by the tragic death of so many prominent personas, but not to the extent where the outside World ceases to exist. Somehow this fixation on national martyrdom seemed familiar and partly echoed the death of Pope five years ago. It would be against our nature to miss the opportunity to focus on ourselves, and ourselves only.
The international media moved a step further. In my entire life, I have not seen so many experts, inaccurately pronouncing so many semi truths and stereotypes. On Saturday afternoon, I found out that Poland is a devout catholic country (CNN), and soon after that President Kaczynski has brought back a sense of integrity [you know] and sense of dignity to polish politics (interview with President Saakashvilli on BBC). A bit later it has been announced that in crash perished not only President and his wife but also an entire generation of polish political elite. Next to come, I was expecting the information about widespread chaos in a country, but I think that someone has realised that this entire storm is going a little too far. On Sunday British newspapers were auguring the inevitable rise of the conspiracy theories (Observer, Sunday Telegraph) and American stations were interviewing ordinary people crying on the streets of Warsaw. Despite the fact, that pronunciation of polish names on TV has improved, I was still confused.

fot. bkj.photography
The second origin of my strange confusedness was the people. I remember Kaczynski brothers very well; in fact, I had a pleasure to write a dissertation about their generation taking power from communists in the early 90’s. Both Lech (RIP) and his brother Jaroslaw played a meaningful (but not always constructive) role in polish politics. Short before his death President had a support of roughly a quarter of a nation. After he tragically died, he became a hero, a symbol waking up old myths and bringing people together to light a candle or leave the flowers on Krakowskie Przedmiescie in Warsaw. Touched commentators were eagerly forecasting a quality change in polish society, an eradication of the culture of a squabble and a rise of new national unity. Getting more and more confused, I couldn’t believe it.

fot. bkj.photography
It is not far from truth statement that Poles are unique, and for years I was convinced that I have a rare comprehension of all these distinctive qualities. The recent behaviour of my fellow nationals nearly brought me to a conclusion that I have lost a touch, and I should stop writing and talking about Poland (shut up). I thought: this is it, years of emigration and prosaic adult life finally stripped me of my sense of ‘Polishness’. Hanged in the vacuum, naked and without identity I was saved by a decision of Archbishop Dziwisz to bury Presidential Couple in Wawel Cathedral in Krakow.
Soon after the announcement, people pressed the pause button in mourning and started to argue and protest as they used to, and as they should do in accord to their national predisposition. In no time a row has flooded the public debate and today after listening to polish radio and reading newspaper articles I have my identity back. I can think clearly and I will not (shut up) stop writing.

fot. bkj.photography