Our 2019 Europe Grand Tour: Krakow

On the fifth day of our trip, we finally had some respite from the deluge of WWII details.

Nowa Huta

I had arranged for a private Communism-themed tour of Nowa Huta, Krakow’s centrally-planned socialist district, by Crazy Guides for us. The tour was a little expensive by Polish standards (S$80+/pax for the 4 hour Communism Deluxe tour), but I was intrigued by this write up on their website:

“We treat all our customers equally, like true communists. But on the other hand some are more equal than others. In case you want to feel like a privileged Communist bigwig instead of your typical everyday Socialist worker, then this upgraded Communism Tour might be exactly what you‘re looking for. The tour includes all the same qualities you can find on the other tour but with an added lunch in a vintage “Milk Bar” canteen and an exclusive visit to a real Communist apartment where you can watch an authentic propaganda movie while enjoying a true Polish delicacy, shots of vodka and pickled cucumbers. To top it all you’ll even get a chance to drive the good old Trabant!”

Spoken in true tongue-in-cheek Orwellian fashion à la Animal Farm!

Anyway, we decided to bite the bullet and book the tour in spite of the price because:

(a) I had previously gone on a Communism free walking tour with my dad in Budapest and LOVED it (best free walking tour I’ve ever been on);

(b) M is really interested in that historical period;

(c) I, too, have developed an interest in Communism, especially after watching HBO’s Chernobyl;

(d) we both felt our visit to Poland was incomplete without a glimpse of such a vital part of Polish history; and

(e) we both thought it’d be so interesting to ride a trabant and visit an authentic Communist apartment.

So glad we did because this was one of my happiest experiences in Poland (ok doesn’t say much I guess since the rest of our time was spent at WWII museums/concentration camps).

Our guide came to pick us up in the morning in the promised vintage trabant.

For the uninitiated, the trabant is a cheap automobile manufactured in the 50s by Communists in East Germany.

Because of its ill make, it supposedly breaks down all the time, but is so apt for a Communism-themed tour. Fortunately, ours didn’t break down on our trip or we’d have to get out and physically push the car.

I was quite horrified to see this when our guide lifted the top to fill the petrol. Turned to M and asked, how likely do you think the engine will explode?

The inside of the trabant is TINY. I was sitting behind the driver seat and legit had my knee pressed up against the front the entire ride (and I’m only 1.58m). Can’t imagine how claustrophobic it must have been for an entire family of four to be squashed in as they used to be in the old days.

Our guide drove us about an hour or so from Krakow Old Town to Nowa Huta, Krakow’s centrally planned socialist district.

Briefly, after the failed Warsaw Uprising and after the Germans lost WWII, the Soviets swooped in to occupy Poland, which was incorporated as a satellite state of the Soviet Union from 1945 to 1989.

[Side note: I realize most of the Central European states (at least those I’ve visited!) share an unfortunate historical vein: occupation by various empires (e.g. Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman), bloody massacres in WWII, then enforced socialism by the Soviets. Really geographically disadvantaged to be wedged between two superpowers.

Also, am dying to visit Russia next. I mean we’ve spent our whole lives hearing the capitalist vilification of the Soviets; so am really interested in hearing their side of the story.]

The Soviet Union chose Nowa Huta to be developed into the utopian ideal city and held up as a showpiece beacon of Communism to the rest of Poland. Apparently, there used to a statue of Vladimir Lenin in the central “Avenue of Roses” but the monument was pulled down in 1989 after the fall of Communism. In fact, as a giant “fuck you” to Communisn, the square has now been renamed Plac Centralny im. Ronalda Reagana (Ronald Reagan Central Square) after the president of the world’s largest and most fervent anti-communist bastion.

Our guide also brought us to a souvenir shop which has retained its 50s décor.

We then proceeded to Restauracja Stylowa, a Soviet-themed restaurant which has changed little since the 70s, for drinks.

Over drinks at Restauracja Stylowa, our guide produced a photo album and shared her experiences growing up in Communist Poland. Against that backdrop, I could almost picture myself transported back to the 70s.

The guide on my Communism walking tour in Budapest had had horrible experiences growing up in Communist Hungary. His parents had been journalists/activists who were imprisoned for their political views.

However, our Polish guide seemed to have rather fond memories of her childhood in that era. They were allowed to travel to other Soviet Union states, had enough rations for the most part, and occasionally her father would illegally trade in supplies on their travels. Apparently, each Soviet satellite state would have a designated raw material to produce – kinda reminded me of Hunger Games? – so the average citizen would sometimes have to get his supplies on the black market if he ran out of rations. Also, toilet paper was rationed!

According to her, it was a simple life but a fairly happy one. So interesting to have this alternate take on this era. I really, really enjoy learning history through personal anecdotes from the man on the street.

After drinks, she drove us to a former steel factory in Nowa Huta.

And later, we made a stop at the promised Communist-style apartment. Apparently, the tour agency bought (leased?) over the apartment to be retained as a museum of that era. Everything in the apartment has remained untouched.

When we first entered the apartment, I saw this TV box and couldn’t help exclaiming “omg, big brother is watching!” lol #1984

So interesting to see the 70s interior design

Travel documents?

An old typewriter

Our guide also poured out some lemonade from that era and put on an authentic Communist propaganda film from for us!

It felt so surreal to be watching Communist propaganda in an actual Communist apartment sipping Communist-era drinks like a good proletariat lol.

After the house tour, our guide took us for lunch (included in the tour) at Bar Mleczny Bieńczyce, my second favourite milk bar in Poland!

Unlike Milk Bar Tomasza (which I loved), Bar Mleczny Bieńczyce felt grittily authentic. We were the only Asians (likely the only non-Poles) there and it’s difficult to even order there if you can’t speak Polish, so our guide did the ordering on our behalves.

I loved the tuck-shop vibes and the chequered floorboards.

I had pierogi ruskie and pierogi with mushroomsand blueberry pierogi, all of which were simple but delicious.

After lunch, our guide drove us back to Krakow Old Town, where we parted ways. In the end, the tour came up to 100ish/pax including tips (not mandatory, but we wanted to because we had such a nice time), but was worth it imo for a different glimpse of Poland.

Wawel Castle

Later, we visited Wawel Castle.

It was so hot and crowded and we were so exhausted, we gave up on Wawel after awhile and went back to our lovely apartment to lie in bed and discuss the War and political ideologies. I hope we didn’t miss much. M actually said our afternoon in was his favourite time of our whole trip

U Babci Maliny

At my colleague’s recommendation, we had dinner later that night at U Babci Maliny (Polish for “At Grandma’s Raspberry”), a restaurant hidden in the cellar of one of the buildings in Krakow Old Town.

I really loved the charmingly kitschy décor and the hearty, reasonably-priced, generous portions of food there.

I ordered a mushroom dish on my colleague’s recommendation. Also, earlier that day, our guide mentioned that Poles are big on mushrooms, and if you ever see random passers-by picking mushrooms overseas, they are likely to be Poles lol. Can understand why after I bit into the mushrooms though – they were delicious! So succulent and earthy; I never knew the simple mushroom could taste so good!

Also had fried potato pancake, another favourite Polish dish of mine.

Our 2019 Europe Grand Tour: Auschwitz

Have been procrastinating on writing about the fourth day of our trip because we visited Auschwitz that day and it’s such a depressing topic to revisit :/ Nevertheless, I think I better get round to it before I completely forget my thoughts on the subject.

Café Camelot

That morning, M and I had brunch at Café Camelot, a cute, convivial Israeli café described by Washington Post writer, David Streitfeld, as his “favourite café in the world”.

Carbonara penne

I ordered shashouka in keeping with the Israeli theme and M had carbonara penne. The food was excellent. I’ve only had shashouka once at Wild Honey, which Café Camelot beat hands down. And I’m usually finicky about pasta (must be al dente, handmade, etc), but M’s carbonara exceeded my expectations! Firm, flavourful, and with a burst of umami.

Auschwitz-Birkenau II

After brunch, we caught our bus to Oświęcim where the infamous Auschwitz-Birkenau II concentration camp is located.

Actually, Auschwitz was the main reason we chose to visit Europe this August. Being a big World War II buff, M had always wanted to visit Auschwitz but missed it a few years back because he missed his plane to Krakow. On my part, the former concentration camp had been on my radar while I was on exchange in Europe, but I never really got around to it because there were always less depressing places to visit. I mean, the historical richness of a city has always been and will always be a top priority for me in picking a travel destination, and I did love my visit to the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam (loved The Diary of Anne Frank growing up). But I think it is not difficult to see why I’d be worried about how depressing a visit to a site of mass murder would be.

That said, I’m glad we had that experience though I don’t think I’ll be revisiting anytime soon.

Initially, we contemplated booking a tour with a travel agent, but most reviews suggested that such tours tend to be incredibly rushed. M really wanted to be able to walk around on our own and take the time to fully process the events that transpired there, so we ended up booking a round bus trip on our own, and joining an on-site tour on arrival. As I understand it, it is not possible to enter the campgrounds without joining an on-site tour but doing it our way would give us about two hours post-tour to see the place at our own pace.

The tour was sectioned into 2 parts: an 1.5 hour-long visit to Auschwitz I (the main camp), followed by a short break before we caught the bus to Auschwitz II-Birkenau (the second camp built to ease congestion in the first and site of the first gas chambers) 3km away.

At Auschwitz I, we saw a gallery featuring photos of former inmates with their date of internment and date of death. All, including the women, had had their heads shaved bald and their identification numbers tattooed. Based on the dates featured, most lasted a mere 2-3 months before succumbing to torture and/or the horrendous living conditions at the camp. I don’t think I would have lasted a day.

We also visited the infamous gallery of personal artefacts robbed from the camp inmates: mountains of shoes in every shape and size, piles of misshapen horn-rimmed glasses, and cloth made of actual human hair of the victims. It was extremely disconcerting to think that each one once belonged to a living, breathing man, woman, or child slaughtered at this very site.

Out of respect of the victims, I will not post such photos here.

The gate bearing the infamous “ARBEIT MACHT FREI SLOGAN” that has become synonymous with Auschwitz. According to a book M read, the ‘B’ in ‘ARBEIT’ was inverted in silent protest.

Barb wire fences preventing escapes

The barracks where thousands were squashed

At Birkenau, we saw the notorious train tracks on which Jews from all over Europe once arrived to be slaughtered like cattle. In fact, the very train cars used to cart them into Auschwitz were cattle wagons, built for the shipment of LIVESTOCK.

These Jews had been herded out from the Ghettos and packed like sardines into windowless cattle cars like this. Many did not survive the journey.

I had seen the tracks in the arrival in Auschwitz scene on Schindler’s List, but it was surreal looking at them in the flesh.

Saw a couple of tourists using the tracks as a lead line for their selfies. I was flabbergasted. It boggles the mind how anyone who had just gone on 2+ hour tour on the Holocaust would have the heart to exploit such an indispensible lever of history’s most notorious genocide for a selfie?!? How does one bring oneself to smile whilst posing for a selfies at mass grave yard? Did they not understand the horrors of Auschwitz or did they simply not care?

Faith

Stupid tourists aside…

The exhibition I liked the best wasn’t actually within the camp itself. It was the display outside the entrance showcasing quotes from survivors about Auschwitz through the lens of faith.

“in memory of those who perished; in honour of those who survived”

“Can you imagine saying the holy blessings for the New Year to ‘the one above’ from that place?”

“It was my sister’s voice. I shouted out loud, ‘I’m here, I’m here, God I’m here.’ She replied, ‘mommy is here.’ I heard that, and I wanted to live, if only to be with them.”

This broke my heart.

“I knew if she died, I would die.”

“God will save you, and you will tell the world what happened to us.’

“I asked someone, ‘where are the women and children?’ He pointed to a tall chimney: ‘they went out through there.’ The only way out of Auschwitz was through the chimney: today, tomorrow, or the next day. It took me a year after liberation to return to my faith.”

“Faith was the only thing I had left. I took comfort in it.”

“A man in the group saw a yingele (a Jewish boy), dead, hanging from the gallows. He screamed, ‘where are you God?’ Another man responded, ‘you know where God is? He is on the gallows with the boy. That’s where he is.’ I saw the exact same barbarity. The man could not reconcile what he saw with a compassionate God. My father taught me that fire makes things hard or it can make them melt. My emunah (faith) became stronger that day.”

I really like how they displayed a whole spectrum of reactions to the same circumstances, from utter disillusionment to the fortifying of faith.

It made me think about how the William Cummings’ quote that “there are no atheists in foxholes” which M once mentioned.

In the face of such horrors, how does one survive without clinging on to faith – faith in the deliverance of justice some day, faith that your loved ones have passed through the gas chambers into a better place, faith that through all the wanton evil, there remains a God watching over you?

In the same breath, in the face of such horrors, how DOES one cling on to faith – faith in the good of mankind, faith in a divine justification for this senseless suffering, faith in an omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent God who fails to intervene?

How would one not be irredeemably disillusioned in the face of such monstrosities? Can we ever reconcile faith with such unchecked evil?

I must sound like a broken record droning on and on about faith and the existential in every other post, but these were in fact the thoughts running through my mind.

Industrialisation of murder

Another thought that struck me was how shockingly fantastical the Holocaust actually sounds. One mad man’s race to exterminate an entire race efficiently? Scientific research to invent a way to kill quicker than guns? SIX MILLION Jews murdered in the Holocaust – how does one even process 6 million different human lives?

Frankly, if it didn’t actually happen, I think I might have considered the Holocaust beyond the realm of human imagination. Even now, my mind can’t fully grasp the scale and depth of sadism and suffering inflicted.

Of course, we all know that individual sociopaths exist in all corners of the Earth. But what really horrifies me, though, is the reality that a civilised state comprised of the average man was capable of contemplating – and worse, sanctioning! – the industrialisation of murder. It is one thing, horrible enough, to kill someone in war. But at least that is comprehensible to the human mind – after all, it is hard to deny that deaths are inevitable collateral damages of war, and a world war, at that. But to learn about how the Nazis developed the gas chambers as a means for disposing of the Jews more efficaciously than mass shootings – to listen to murder being discussed in terms of EFFICIENCY – was chilling and shocking on a different scale.

I had naturally heard about the gas chambers prior to my visit to Poland but I don’t think my mind fully processed it given the separation in time and space, until I was at Auschwitz, right at the site where they were employed.

Me: I just find it so hard wrap my head around the industrialization of murder. I mean, I get that the Germans have always been obsessed about efficiency. But what sort of psychopath speaks of murdering people in terms of fucking efficiency? And somehow they managed to find so many psychopaths to literally pull the levers of murder? I mean aren’t we, as a race, social creatures? Shouldn’t there be an evolutionary aversion to hurting your fellow man wired into our DNA?

M: Yeah, it’s crazy. But I suspect it’s a lot to do with the fact that Jews were completely dehumanized through propaganda in the eyes of the average SS soldier or even German civilian back then. If you no longer see someone as human, I guess it wouldn’t be that much different from slaughtering animals.

Our discussion made me think about the Men against Fire episode in Black Mirror,

*SPOILERS*

where soldiers were neurally implanted with augmented reality devices which distorted their vision to see normal humans as roaches to be exterminated. This enabled them to overcome the biological revulsion to kill another human.

It kinda scared me a little to think about the power of psychology. Are we one dehumanisation propaganda away from turning on each other? I mean if there’s one thing we’ve learnt from history is that it will always repeat itself.

Movie Review: Joker

M and I went to watch Joker yesterday.

– minor spoilers ahead – 

I think many of our generation have long associated Batman’s arch-nemesis with Heath Ledger’s stunning performance and find it difficult to imagine anyone else playing Joker. Joaquin Phoenix definitely had big shoes to fill in taking on this role.And even without the inevitable comparisons, the fine balance between insanity and genius, as M pointed out, makes the role one of the hardest in Hollywood history to play.

Luckily, Phoenix delivered.

His sympathetic portrayal of Arthur Fleek’s spiral from a well-intentioned, awkward member of the disenfranchised into the mass murder the audience is familiar with is relatable, moving, and compelling. It humanises a character we’ve long reduced to a one-dimensional super villain. It is difficult not to feel and root for Arthur by the end of the movie.

On a personal level, being a rather shy introvert who has had my fair share of struggles in social contexts and with depression, I felt like I could also relate to his sense of exclusion, self-loathing, and impotence in the face of institutional discrimination.

The directing was equally brilliant. I like how subtly the set reinforced Arthur’s desolation and powerlessness. For instance, I loved the scene where he slowly makes his way up the long flight of stairs back home after yet another gruelling day at work. Imo, it was a great metaphor for:

(1) the many uphill struggles of the disenfranchised; and
(2) how life just doesn’t give you a break. Even after a brutal day at work, you still have to fight gravity (literally and figuratively). There are still goddamn metaphorical Everests to scale. Life will continue to kick you when you are down, even when you are already on the edge, grasping at straws. I really felt this in my bones watching Phoenix’s slumped trudge up the stairs.

My main critique of the movie is that parts of the dialogue were narratively inconsistent. For most of the movie, Arthur displays little sign of articulateness or coherence of thought. But in the last 10-15 minutes, he delivers an eloquent and lucid monologue which I found rather sudden and out-of-character. Think the build up to that climax could have been better thought out by the writers and director.

Also, I think the link between the metro triple murders and the riots should have been better fleshed out. Seems quite incredible that the public would root for a mass murderer without more facts (e.g. explicit knowledge that the 3 victims were aholes).

Overall though, Joker ranks amongst the best new releases (if not the best) I’ve caught this year. I mean Ad Astra was ridiculously overrated, and Makoto Shinkai’s Weathering with You sadly did not meet the high expectations set by Kimi No Na Wa imo.

***

I just saw my friend’s ig story that she’s on the fence about watching Joker because she read reviews that the movie stigmatises mental illness by suggesting a causal link between Arthur’s mental illness and his descent into violence.

That didn’t occur to me at all actually.

In fact, I feel like the treatment of Arthur’s mental illness was very nuanced and sympathetic. While his mental illness was definitely a contributing factor, I think the movie makes clear that the direct chain of causation between that and his eventual violence was broken by institutional discrimination, domestic abuse, and even the ubiquitous callousness of the everyday man. If anything, the movie is a discourse on how complete and utter disenfranchisement can cause an otherwise harmless (and in fact, kind and sweet?) man to snap.

For instance, the director was careful to include scenes like him making faces to amuse a child on the bus, or him caring for his sickly mother. Even then, he was already suffering from mental illness, clearly signalling that the mentally ill can still be functional, kind, and incredibly sweet. It was only after blow upon blow of misfortune, injustice, and abuse that he finally snapped.

I definitely didn’t come out of the cinema thinking, wow mentally ill people are time bombs for psychopathy. All I felt was sympathy, and perhaps even guilt for any subconscious discrimination I might have shown before. So I really don’t relate to the viewpoint that the movie stigmatises mental illness.None of my friends has watched the movie yet though and I’m very interested in hearing from regular viewers (rather than movie critics). Does anyone have any thoughts on whether the movie stigmatises mental illness? I’d love to hear them.

anxiety

Sometimes, like tonight, the anxiety is so overwhelming that I can’t sleep. I literally got up at 3.30am, turned on my laptop, and tried to figure what the fuck I have been doing over the last 4 years.

From the outside, my life seems fine. I have a decent job, family, friends, boyfriend. And I feel so guilty and horrendously ungrateful for feeling so supremely discontented and terrified when there are people with real life-and-death problems, but I can’t help it. I am so directionless. I have zero clue what I really want in life or how to get there. I feel like a fish out of water.

Some days, I manage to convince myself that it’s going to be ok, that even if the worst case scenarios I envisage really materialise, I will still be able to survive at the very least. But on a night like this, it’s so hard to quell the mounting anxiety when I think about how everyone seems to have their shit sorted out and I’m nowhere close. It’s so hard not to think about how my twenties are slipping through my fingers like quicksand. How I’ve squandered so many opportunities away due to fear and insecurity. How I’m piling on weight due to severe emotional eating. How I’m the most underperforming amongst all the people I see on the regular.

We have been discussing careers and the future a lot on my secondary school clique’s group chat and it hit me that I’m in the bottom half in terms of salary in virtually every close group of friends I have. My secondary school best friend, C, has made Registrar and was selected to be Chief Resident at her hospital. Another girl has gotten a couple of early promotions at a large financial institution and is earning more than any of us. And the last girl only earns a little less than I do because she is a bonded government scholar (ie in the civil service). M is my age (thus 2 years behind bc of army), but he already earns more than me right now.

What am I doing??? Yes, I know money and career success aren’t the be all and and all.

But it feels stressful af thinking about what an under-achiever I have become when academically I was probably the strongest.

And it’s not just about the money. A big reason I haven’t been capitalising on the opportunities that have come my way (and that would have catapulted my salary by leagues) is bc I truly dk wtf I want. There was once I ended up bursting into tears at work – luckily I’ve my own room – bc I felt so breathless thinking about the impending future and how I have ZERO idea what I want it to be.

I feel like I’ve become the epitome of the type of person I despise: insecure, cowardly, yet never satisfied.

Sometimes, in moments of sheer desperation, I find myself on the cusp of praying. And then I remember that I don’t really believe in a God who cares about my problems, shallow as they are.

At work, I remain high-functioning. After all, there are still issues to be researched, contracts to be vetted, advice to be rendered. But really, I feel so terribly lost, alone, and down

Our 2019 Europe Grand Tour: Warsaw

In August this year, M and I made a 15-day pilgrimage to Europe. He’s a big World War II buff and missed Auschwitz on his solo trip (because he missed his plane) so we decided to visit Warsaw and Krakow this time. We also did London, the Cotswolds, and Scotland. Thought I’d better record our experiences here while memory still serves. Sadly, the details of many significant trips in my life have now become hazy with time, and I’d hate for this one to wind up the same way. Will break up my entries by country then city.

Poland

It was my first time in Poland (did Hungary, Czech, and Austria but missed Poland on my exchange travels). I did like it very much but tbh, I feel like Warsaw and Krakow lack the gritty, old-world charm of Budapest and, to a lesser extent, Prague.

I recall arriving in Budapest 5 years ago to find, to my bewilderment, streets of rubbish strewn outside front doors because of the annual “lomtalanítás”. I was also surprised to see locals lifting their plates up to their mouths to polish them with their tongues at upscale restaurants. And then of course, there were the renowned ruin bars of the Jewish Quarter, rich in eclectic, hotchpotch, one-of-a-kind character.

In Prague, my dad and I also encountered bawdy drunks belting out-of-tune songs on the metro mid-afternoon.

The two cities exuded their own distinct vibes, conspicuously different from that of their Western European counterparts. I had expected Poland to share these “idiosyncrasies” with their Eastern European brethren, but surprisingly, Warsaw and Krakow felt incredibly safe and sanitized, more so than Western European cities like Paris and Barcelona. Of course, that made them tourist-friendly, but I thought it detracted slightly from their overall charm.

History-wise, though, Poland didn’t disappoint. It was a treasure trove of WWII museums, walking tours, and memorials. We had watched Schindler’s List and The Pianist prior to the trip, and it was surreal seeing these historical sites in the flesh. I have to admit, though, that by the 5^th day, I was rather eager to leave – the deluge of details on the Holocaust proved too depressing.

Warsaw (2 – 3 Aug’19)

In our original itinerary, we had sketched a route straight from Singapore to Krakow and then to the UK. But on further research (and after watching Roman Polanski’s The Pianist), I learnt about the Warsaw Uprising and was determined to make a pit stop at Warsaw.

I am so glad we did.

The most moving experience of our Polish trip for me was our visit to the Warsaw Rising Museum (yes, more so than Auschwitz).

Warsaw Uprising

To summarise, the Warsaw Uprising of 1944 was a resistance movement led by the Polish Home Army (a civilian force) to liberate Poland from almost 5 years of Nazi rule.

Poland had suffered terribly right from the birth of WWII. First, given its geographical proximity to Germany, it was one of the first states to be conquered by Nazi forces. Hitler had also decreed that a traditional German town supplant the city of Warsaw eventually in the his grand plan to Germanize Central Europe. Secondly, Poland was historically a Jewish haven, the home of about 3 million Polish Jews, 90% of whom were systematically murdered in the Holocaust. Thirdly, slavs ranked just above Jews in the “sub-human” category of the Nazi racial doctrine and were tortured for much of the occupation as well.

By the summer of 1944, the Poles had had enough. A year before, the Polish Jews had just staged the doomed Ghetto Uprising in a heroic effort not to win the war (for it was a logistical impossibility), but to merely “pick the time and place of [their] deaths”. Apparently, the Poles were inspired in part by that heroism. Despite being severely under-equipped (90% of the Polish civilian force was unarmed), they launched the revolution on 1 August 1944.

The Uprising lasted 63 days, virtually unaided by foreign support (the Allied Forces made several failed attempts at air-dropping reinforcements), and remains the single largest military effort by any European resistance movement in WWII. Brave though they were, the Home Army and its makeshift weapons stood little chance in the onslaught of German fighter plans, tankers, and machine guns. Many took to the sewers for cover from the rain of bullets. By the end of it, over 200,000 Varsovian had died defending their city.

But the worst was yet to come.

As reprisal for Polish audacity, the Third Reich ordered the expulsion of the surviving Varsovian population and the systemic razing of Warsaw. The order from  SS chief Heinrich Himmler was that:

“The city must completely disappear from the surface of the earth and serve only as a transport station for the Wehrmacht. No stone can remain standing. Every building must be razed to its foundation.”

Explosives were deployed to burn the city down, with “special attention” paid to national archives and historical monuments like the Royal Castle. The overarching goal was simple: to erase all trace of Polish identity.

It struck me then that you demolish a city by destroying its buildings; you wipe out a national consciousness by obliterating its literature, its culture, its history.

By January 1945, 90% of all buildings in Warsaw had been completely devastated. Every inch of the metropolitan we see today had to be rebuilt from scratch on the backs and paycheques of patriotic Poles.

And the Warsaw Rising Museum which we visited was erected as a tribute to all who fought and died for independent Poland and its free capital.

Back to our actual visit: on virtually all our museum visits, M and I will split up because we both like to move at our own pace and without distraction. This time was no different. Because I was alone, I felt like I really got immersed in the exhibitions. There were parts I got super scared especially when I realised I was alone watching real-life war reels. And at other parts, I ended up being moved to tears by the many accounts of sacrifice and service of the everyday Varsovian during the Uprising. For instance, I learnt that virtually every Varsovian, regardless of age, gender or vocation, helped in the Uprising in some way, the men in the front lines, the women nursing the injured, and the children handing out pamphlets.

The Warsaw Rising Monument

Dedicated to all men and women who died for Poland and its free capital

The Little Insurgent – dedicated to all children who lost their childhood in the War

And when it became clear there was no chance of victory, some of the Home Army civilian generals (e.g. Gen Bór) were urged to flee, but most chose to sacrifice themselves so that they could remain in Warsaw a little longer to protect the civilians. They ended up captured and/or killed.

This quote from one of the exhibits, in particular, really hit home:

“I loved as you did, surely, but I was given scanty heart for my unnecessary love, for there was standing over the era which you are giving names to today, enormous death and terror.”

— Tadeusz Gajcy, To The Descendant.

Gacjy was a Polish poet and member of the Home Army. He died childless at 22 during the Uprising.

I’m not quite sure why I feel so strongly about something so distant in time and space, but it filled me with inexplicable sadness to think that, as the title suggests, Gacjy probably wrote this for his descendants, but he never lived to have any. It is bittersweet and somewhat hopeful, though, to think that there posterity is indeed, naming and learning about the terrible era he lived in, and the great sacrifice and courage which characterized a generation.

Other quotes I found particularly moving and informing about the human condition are these.

“What was the most important thing about the Rising to me? It was selflessness, because people follow reason in the so-called normal life. And what could a girl expect when she was crawling across a street under machine gun fire to get to a wounded person? She could expect nothing but a bullet in her head. And she was not deranged or insane, not at all. She was a regular person. So, there are situations in life, or in history, pompusly speaking, that can muster the best of human attributes in us.”

— Juliusz Kulesza ‘Julek’

“A search for oblivion was a general symptom … [People in the ghetto] wasted their time on gambling and cards, often organising revels and drunken parties, etc. some groups reached a point of extreme demoralisation, for people, after losing their nearest, entered into fast relations and quasi- families; trying to grab handfuls of life, or rather its illusion. Because everyone knew that it would soon end.” – Simche Binem Motyl

“There is no way to understand this Nation, which has had such a wonderful and at the same time terribly difficult past, without Christ. There is no way to understand this city, Warsaw, the capital of Poland, which in 1944 took up an uneven fight against the invader, a fight in which it was abandoned by the allied powers, in which it fell under its own ruins, if one does not remember that Christ the Savior with his cross fell under the same ruins in front of the Holy Cross Church on Krakowskie Przedmieście St.” – John Paul II on June 2, 1979

For me, Warsaw’s tortured past bears stark record of mankind’s duality. The 18^th century partitioning of Poland, the Holocaust, the Nazi razing of Warsaw, and the opportunistic conquer by the Soviets prove, unequivocally, that mankind will always rape, reave, and ravage if opportunity presents itself. But the heroism of the everyday man during the Warsaw Uprising attests equally to the abounding good and beauty in human nature.

My struggle with Christianity

I was brought up as a Christian, kind of (mum and most of her family are devoutly adherent; dad is an atheist – story for another day), but for as long as I can remember, I have always struggled with my faith.

To this day, I still falter when asked to fill out my religious affiliation in immigration forms. And when I was admitted to the bar some years back, I remembering vacillating over taking my oath on the bible and uttering the clarion call “so help me god” oh-so-emphatically.

Religious faith, I believe, is a gift that one can’t simply “logic” oneself into. And it is a gift I have yet to receive (if ever I will).

Due to the impossibility of proving or disproving the existence of God, both theism and atheism demand a leap of faith – faith that God exists; faith that “He” doesn’t. But somehow, I have never been able to take a conclusive step in either direction.

Like most people, the basis for my religious scepticism lies in the Problem of Evil. How do we logically reconcile the idea of an omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent God with the existence (or in fact, prevalence) of evil in this fucked up world we live in? In the face of the Holocaust, terrorism, sex slavery, how can we believe in a God who is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent when He seemingly chooses to do nothing about these myriad ills?

As I understand it, the traditional Christian defence is that evil exists due to the Fall of Man. Essentially, the theory posits that because Eve ate the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in defiance of God, she doomed mankind to eternal separation from God (except through redemption) and set us upon a path of suffering and evil. If one subscribed to this defence, one would technically be able to remain internally consistent in his belief in an omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent God and his recognition of arbitrary evil and suffering in this world.

On the other hand, if one does not buy this explanation, s/he will look at the myriad injustice, suffering, and evil in the world and conclude that the likely explanation is that:

• there is no God; or
• if there were a God, he cannot be omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent all at once.

I was trying to explain to M the other day why the second view is more palatable to my logical mind although my heart would very much like to believe the first.

Me: I really want to believe in God. I think it would bring me so much comfort to think that someone – an omnipotent divine being no less! – knows, loves, and watches over me. But I really can’t bring myself to believe it. Both theism and atheism cannot be proven or disproven, but the Christian doctrine requires an additional improvable layer to make sense, one that appears rooted in fantasy no less. I have to believe in the Fall of Man theory to resolve the Problem of Evil conundrum.

M: Yeah. I think you just described Occam’s Razor, which states that the explanation that requires the least amount of assumptions is usually correct.

I googled the term later, and found this example on wiki:

Two trees have fallen down during a windy night. Think about these two possible explanations:

The wind has blown them down. (Explanation 1)

Two meteorites have each taken one tree down and, after striking the trees, hit each other removing any trace of themselves. (Explanation 2)

Even though both are possible, several other unlikely things would also need to happen for the meteorites to have knocked the trees down, for example: they would have to hit each other and not leave any marks. In addition, meteorites are fairly rare. Since this second explanation needs several assumptions to all be true, it is probably the wrong answer. Occam’s razor tells us the wind blew the trees down, because this is the simplest answer therefore probably the right one.

Indeed, the Christian defence is more like Explanation 2 to me. While possible, the sheer number of assumptions makes it logically improbable to my rational mind.

I tried to explain this to my colleague, V (a practising Christian), the other day, and the conversation went something like that.

V: Ok, you don’t believe in the Fall of Man because there is no proof. But why do you believe in say, ancient history where there are no living witnesses and any documentary evidence could be fabricated?

Me: Yeah, but historical narratives adhere more to the laws of the natural world as we know it. History doesn’t claim, for example, that Qin Shih Huang unified China by waving a magic wand. Whereas religious narratives require me to simply accept fantastical explanations of magic apples and such.

The odd thing, though, is that despite all this, I still desperately want to believe in Christ. Christianity promises so much: salvation, eternal bliss, an answer to my existential angst. And indeed, I think deep, deep, deep down, a part of me, stripped of all logical and rational analysis, still does believe in the “God” introduced to me all those years ago in Sunday school. But try as I might, I can’t ignore my bitterness at His (imo) laissez-faire attitude to the unfairness and suffering in this world and in my life.

I do wish there were some way to reconcile all of this. If anyone has any thoughts on this, I’d love to hear them.

Is it morally defensible to have children?

Recently, I had a debate with my cousins and M about whether it is morally justifiable to have biological children (as opposed to adoption). To me the issue can be reframed so: is life a gift worth giving?

One of my cousins mooted the idea that life = suffering and viewed in that light, it could be morally indefensible to impose it on anyone. But as a Christian, he naturally also subscribes to the theory of salvation and overall, takes the Utilitarian view that it is morally justifiable because you’re bringing more lives into eternal bliss.

I thought it was an interesting view that cohered with his Christian comprehensive doctrine. It made me think about my own stand because I definitely, desperately want children one day. Yet, it is difficult to reconcile this desire with the niggling suspicion that life is not a gift worth giving.

On a microscopic level, most days are painful and difficult, haunted by personal demons. I definitely am much unhappier than I am happy. So is this really a life I deem worthy of bestowing on anyone, my child no less?

And even if I were to calibrate my views to discount my own admittedly fucked up psyche, I still tend towards Buddha’s view that in the grand scheme of things, life is suffering. In fact, the very basis of mortal design guarantees deep suffering – no man, however rich and powerful, is exempt from death and the eternal partings it brings.

Not to mention the myriad pain and suffering we often term “Vicissitudes of Life”.

An argument could be made that even if life were more suffering than pleasure, it is still a worthy gift because it is Meaningful. And my counter to that is that given my recent slant towards pseudo-nihilism (see my last post), I don’t believe life is meaningful – it’s arbitrary, haphazard, pointless.

So I think I do agree with my cousin’s reasoning process that because life = suffering (and meaningless, to me), it might not be morally defensible to impose it on anyone unless you believe in the Christian conception of the After Life which, sadly, I’m not sure I do.

Which begs the question: in light of all this, is it incredibly selfish to allow my private desires to trump the un-ethicality of having a child?

Comprehensive doctrine

Today, D sent us a quote that really resonated:

“What do you want – the pain of staying where you are, or the pain of growth?”

For so long, I have been terrified of abandoning a comfort zone I have long outgrown. To save myself from the terrifying prospect of Change, I have tried time and again to delude myself into believing I have good reason to stay. But increasingly, the insidious weight of stagnancy has been bearing more insistently upon me, especially as I watch more average peers move on to better places.

Frankly, I’m scared shitless. Scared of the pain of stagnancy. Scared of the pain of growth. Scared of the pain of not making the right decision fast enough. And, above all, scared of who I have become and who I might well continue to be: a sniffling, unhappy coward with no drive, no courage, no ambition.

So I guess the purpose of this post is to remind myself of the 16 year old girl who was brave, full of wonder, and who dared to dream. The girl who envisioned a bright, meaningful future far happier than the unhappy childhood she had lived. The girl who believed in herself. Somehow, somewhere along the rocky path to adulthood, she evaporated, along with my faith in a just and good God, my lust for life, and my sense of self.

In a philosophy class I took in uni, we learnt about Rawls’ theory of a comprehensive doctrine which, on an individual level, is our Theory of Everything – our set of moral, metaphysical, religious, ethical, and political beliefs which form our conception of Good and inform our judgments on life. Like its name suggests, one’s “comprehensive doctrine” undergirds each and every one of our views.

To cite a recent example, my cousin, a staunch Christian, doesn’t believe that technology will one day be able to isolate or replicate one’s “consciousness” for uploading onto a cloud which ensures immortality (à la Black Mirror’s San Junipero). It was apparent to me that his view is a manifestation of his comprehensive doctrine that God created man to be mortal and to have a soul (because I too have similar-ish beliefs). The idea that our consciousness / soul can be converted seamlessly into a series of codes and uploaded onto a device clearly contradicts our comprehensive doctrines so jarringly that we must reject it out of hand.

I was recounting this incident to M and mentioned that while it should be self evident from the very term “comprehensive doctrine”, I’m only just starting to fully appreciate the practical manifestation of it shaping all of one’s views on everything under the sun. He dissected it so well:

“Our beliefs don’t stand alone but each is mutually reinforcing of other beliefs in an interconnected web we call our belief system.”

So anyway, the reason I brought up the concept of a “comprehensive doctrine” is because it occurred to me that the evolution of my own comprehensive doctrine has indisputably influenced my emotional psyche.

To elaborate, I once believed in a Just and Good God. I had faith that my life had meaning and purpose because that there was an omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenelovent God who watched over and had Plans for me, “Plans to prosper [me] and not to harm [me], plans to give [me] hope and a future”.

Now, I have a much more nihilistic worldview/comprehensive doctrine. I *think* I still believe in the existence of an omnipotent, supernatural creator (or “God”), but I no longer believe Him to be just, loving, or good. How can I when confronted by the myriad injustices of life? (Yes, I am aware of the Christian defence that we live in a broken world due to the Fall of Man but I find it difficult to buy into that theory – topic for another day/post though.)

But back to the topic: I *think* my current comprehensive doctrine is that mankind was created for mere divine sport and so our lives unfold in a haphazard, amorphous mass with no real meaning to be divined, and life is neither fair nor just nor meaningful because it was never intended to be. And this depresses and scares me like fuck, because according to this world view it means:

1. nothing is guaranteed – not happiness, not the future, not even divine retribution; and
2. our lives have no meaning.

Oh how I envy those with blind faith.

To sum it up, I think the minor depression that has taken unyielding hold of me in recent years stems from my recent-ish shift towards a nihilistic worldview.

Or it could well be one of those chicken and egg / vicious cycle things where the two mutually reinforce in a never ending downward spiral.

[On that note, the irony is that M shares a rather similar Theory of Life (save that he’s agnostic about the monotheistic, human conception of God) but is happy precisely because of the very views which cause me deep grief. He reasons that “purpose” is something one gives inanimate objects with no agency. For instance, a spoon’s purpose is for us to scoop rice. But as beings with agency, we choose our life’s paths, unconstricted by purpose. And that, to him, is freeing.]

But to return to the original topic: I am scared because I no longer believe a good and just Divine Being oversees and cares for me, my future, and my happiness.  The future looks so hazy. But that said, perhaps it is high time I take (baby) steps to confront it head on. After all, if it’s true that God doesn’t care, I might as well start looking out for myself.