Dual-city Cieszyn. Polish, Czech, shared?
panorama of Czech Cieszyn, in the foreground on the right - Romanesque rotunda
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Yes, Cieszyn is provincial in its own way. It lies far from Warsaw (what's wrong with that?), but nowadays, fortunately, it also lies "not far from the highway" anymore. Provincial because it's small, has fallen out of the mainstream of events, nationwide unaware, probably known mostly to its closest neighbors, and from the depths of the country closer to Czechophiles and guests of the supposedly excellent (I've never been) film festival. For the rest - truly unaware.
That's going to change now. Because Cieszyn is not only beautiful, historical and aesthetic, but, most importantly, such a kind of terribly ambitious, irritated that others for incomprehensible reasons do not appreciate it. Annoyed that such a certain kind is sort of in the past tense.
Cieszyn I saw just like that - a little past tense prince. It's kind of like a Grand Duke, which is sometimes slightly offended I guess for the fact that they took this principality away from him, but didn't notice that they gave him something in return. Something wonderful, more powerful than even those rich local traditions. What?
market
© Cieszyn Cultural Center
A unique Polishness and a confronted Czechness, of course. Because Cieszyn is the capital of Polish-Czech relations, it may have a monopoly not only on Czech films, but also on literature, humor, kofola, Czech beers, songs, lentilky and a Czech sense of superiority. I don't know about you, but I just love it.
To use Czechness as a weapon in conquering the world, one needs, of course, a certain lightness and distance, some diplomatic sensitivity, a feel for it. One shouldn't barge like an elephant into a china store and subject Polish Cieszyn to some kind of Czechization, one shouldn't forget the sensitivity of those Poles who stayed on the other side, or the Czech urban complexes towards this historical, prettier, more reality-relevant Polish Cieszyn.
It is simply a matter of learning to enjoy each other... nomen omen. What once divided, today unites. Cieszyn was originally one city, artificially divided, today it can unite again, simply by ignoring the border that does not exist in practice. And it's not about what is already there, i.e. crowds of Czech customers of the Polish Kaufland. It's about more than that - about mutual, genuine interest in each other, about making wise use of each other's potentials. About ideas for Polish-Czechness on a daily basis, not on holidays.
I remember when we were discovering on the Biała River the colossal potential of Reksio, Bolek and Lolek, Spy from the Land of Rainbows, the entire output of the Bielsko-Biala Drawing Film Studio. So, dear Cieszyn, I have good news for you. Bielsko-Biala may have its cartoons, but you have Czechness.
If you want, you'll harness Krecik, Rumcajs and, how inspiring in this context, Neighbors (for those unfamiliar - a cult Czech cartoon about two inventive and mutually supportive neighbors) to work for your brand. Helena Vondráčková may sing about you. A new statue in the coming future may be erected of you not by a patriotic vision of defenders of the motherland (pointing the sword of a statue flexing in front of the castle toward the Czech Republic), but by such a one as David Černý (though I'm already afraid what this eminently politically incorrect Czech sculptor would do here if he were allowed to do so). But that's exactly what Cieszyn needs today - catching distance from itself and a sense of humor.
It's time to take full advantage of the good fortune of being in the province. Loved, proud, provincial Cieszyn is now a city on the border, about to take center stage, connecting two arch-interesting countries in Europe. Two phenomenal cultures, that Hussite Czech one, ironic, witty, a little bit effete, with that Polish one of lancer fantasy and creative entrepreneurship combined with post-state complexes and a Catholic stick up the ass. With apologies.
It's time to recognize the phenomenon of our time: there are no more borders here. We can finally like each other instead of hating each other, as politics and history have so far dictated. From Cieszyn you can jump to Prague for a beer and return the same day - by train it's only three and a half hours, and there are plenty of connections.
Polish-Czech border in Cieszyn
Photo: Wojciech Wandzel © UM Cieszyn
It's time to look at each other and then gaze into the mirror together - and smile broadly. Poles are just now getting rid of the aforementioned Catholic stick from their proverbial ass, shedding the odium of complexes from their illiterate ancestors from "Konopielka." Czechs don't have to, they got rid of them before thanks to Jan Hus. Czechs, on the other hand, could work on their xenophobia and that kind of funny local holdover - life is too short to spend it all in one and the same inn over a pint of otherwise good beer.
We live in wonderful, though also frightening times. In them, let's focus on the important, the good, the positive. And intercultural relations in Europe are something really incredibly interesting. In the 21st century, we are already primarily Europeans, though Poles and Czechs too, of course. A multicultural city like Cieszyn, with a brilliant, complicated, original history, a place where cultures mix live and really, this is something incredibly satisfying for any careful observer of reality. For me, it goes like this:
Cieszyn? Pleases the eye, rejoices the soul
The eye is pleased by these townhouses, the town hall, these old gates, the cobblestones. The soul rejoices the Czech sense of humor, the lightness of modern pink design. The eyes are pleased by the beautiful monuments, the soul rejoices in the Czech inscriptions, speech, international vibe. Cracow is cosmopolitan, vibrating with hundreds of languages, crowded, bustling, in Kazimierz, but deprived of the neighborhood of Jews, who are no longer with us. A great, great pity.
