The Pitfalls of Being in Your Twenties

I was short on inspiration to write for the bigger part of the month, and that is mostly because of the very exciting new addition to my life.

No, I’m not pregnant! My US work authorization arrived in the mail around mid-December and once the Christmas festivities ended, I really had no more excuses to postpone my plunge into the not-so-handsome job market. In other words, January brought the lovely pitfalls of being an immigrant looking for a job fresh out of college.

It’s been a while since I first heard my friends’ hysterical stories about the dreaded prospect of turning your hard-earned degree into a minimum wage job (also probably stolen from a high schooler). Working an unpaid internship, and running tables at a nightclub over the weekends,  juggling several part-time jobs 7 days a week for months at a time. While these may be very common stories, they come from some not so ordinary young people who lack neither poise nor brains to succeed, but just like me, chose to do a degree that doesn’t translate into a sellable set of skills.

We made our choices way before the prestige of a solid university degree began to crumble. If we only knew! Newsweek‘s Joel Kotkin hit the note just right when he dubbed young Americans the Generation Screwed.

“The unemployment rate for those 18 to 29 is 50 percent above the national average, and even those who have landed jobs are often overqualified and underpaid. They’re swimming in debt, recording unprecedented levels of stress, and most will never be able to achieve the economic status or lifestyles their parents enjoy.”

Maclean‘s Chris Sorensen and Charlie Gillis followed in the footsteps publishing an article on emergence of well-educated, smart Canadian underclass. The article took facebook by storm and I took note – I’m neither American nor Canadian but that is now also my reality.

I was an international student about to complete my degree in Canada when the European economic crisis reached its peak. It seemed unrealistic to count on a decent-paying job back in Poland when I could do financially better staying and working a minimum wage job. There may be nothing to be ashamed trying to get by working odd jobs, but that’s probably not what I imagined when I decided to invest in overseas education.

There is a high price my generation is now paying for being hoaxed into thinking that higher education open doors, when in reality the market pushes us to “rebrand” ourselves in order to become “sellable.” Because the degree itself is not. Something we could have done without enduring the ridiculousness that happens at top-tier universities. What I’m referring to is a psychological toll of stress, academic rat race and unrealistic expectations for the future – things that university students feed off, and are being fed by academia.

If you are in your twenties, you have to be prepared to let go of the high hopes and your shortcut to success. Get ready to start from scratch, again and again. Expect nothing, be ready for anything. So there is that, but there is also more freedom to explore non-traditional paths to making a name for yourself – and that will require a lot more creativity and drive than any college degree can offer.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate

Blowing dandelions in Zakopane, Poland.

Last days in Poland

Until my parents divorced – that is over the initial two years in Canada – I split time and commitments more or less evenly between the two opposite sides of the ocean. There was a sense of stability in the constant back and forth, at least until the moment circumstances forced me to deliberately skip my return flight home and  stop visiting for what turned out to be two years. I spent the first of many Christmas Eves in a strange, solitary way. When I finally got around to booking a return flight home it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. This wasn’t just a regular trip because everything I had known as my Polish home wasn’t there anymore. I also wasn’t the same person after many months of PTSD. Unfortunately  have this tendency to give in to other people’s expectations and my visits to Poland usually turn into a tight and hurried schedule of family events, doctor appointments, last-minute shopping and catching-up with a dozen of friends. It is something to enjoy when you are bursting with energy, but now I sought a a simple experience of home. Life spins faster when you have more weight over your shoulders. Homesickness became less about clinging on to a romanticized memory of life at home with both of my parents, and so much more about keeping alive a sense of home in whatever shape or form it remained. My home – no longer a physical place, but a space in heart that needed to be filled with a special kind of energy. Taking part in the most ordinary of your family’s everyday routine, acting as if there were no changes, no barriers drawn between us, and no rush. This I had to pretend because what used to be our family home was now an abandoned apartment and many bitter-sweet memoirs. I had to accept there will be no coming back, only the possibility of building something new and the long process of adjustment. As to friends, there is an upsetting sensation that life has put us on opposite tracks and there is little we can understand about one another expect for the past we share. Nevertheless, my last days in Poland were filled with great joy as we hosted a friend from Ethiopia. Same time last year we were driving around Addis Ababa when she told us she was admitted to Stockholm University and there is a chance we will see each other in EU.

Morskie Oko

On our last day in Zakopane the weather was chancy so instead of hiking up to Morskie Oko (literally Eye of the Sea) we decided to take a horse-drawn cart. Morskie Oko is the largest lake in the Tatra National Park, and one of the most recognizable outdoor destinations in the area as it provides a multitude of hiking trails suitable for all and  breathtaking views. The pond is not only beautiful engulfed by mist and snow-covered peaks, it also emanates mysterious charm which can probably be attributed to a certain folk legend claiming Morskie Oko is in fact connected with the sea via underground passages.

Art in the Tatras

Zakopane is not only the capital of Polish mountaineering tradition, but also a place where 19th and 20th century artists thrived inspired by local folklore and wild nature. During the most recent visit to Zakopane I had a chance to explore an wonderful exhibition of artworks  linked with the Polish highland region Podhale, created between 1880-1939. It’s a blend of contemporary European aesthetics with the local imagery and folklore.

The exhibition of 20th Century Art is held at historical Villa Oksza, currently a property of the Tatra Museum, which in itself is a 116-year old historical landmark reflecting a unique architectural style developed by Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz at the end of 19th century, with hope of creating….

(…) a home which would settle all existing doubts about the possibility of adapting folk architecture to the requirements deriving from the more complex and sophisticated needs of comfort and beauty (…) that it will possess the full range of comforts yet simultaneously be beautiful in a fundamentally Polish way.”

I’m not very familiar with other names that have shaped art which once blossomed at the foot of the Tatra Mountains, but I’m greatly fascinated by the persona of Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz (also known as Witkacy) who as versatile, hot-blooded and a mysterious character keeps inspiring fondness for Zakopane’s intriguing folklore and invites its visitors to ponder on the influence of wild nature on humans. His works – photographs, paintings, plays – are ignited by a genius ability to exaggerate and underscore the oddities within his subjects.

Summer in Zakopane

We spent four days breathing fresh crispy air and walking down the trails. Though it was no recluse experience – we were constantly surrounded by crowds of amateur hikers;  it was nice to be one step closer to wilderness and experience the last traces of the authentic local folklore. I must admit, I struggled quite a lot trying to capture the alluring charm of Zakopane as I hold on to in my memory, unspoiled by vendors selling plastic souvenirs and tacky ads flooding the streets. The reality of the people is a harsh one, their livelihood being heavily dependent on the tourism economy and the ability to make compromises. It is the challenge of preserving the vigor of regional traditions while re-imagining it for the sake of salability.

Folk Wedding in Podhale Region
source: http://magiagor.blogspot.com/source: http://www.zakopane.eu/

Poland

What it takes to get from Texas to Poland? Our flight to Poland turned into a 2-day journey. A 3-hour drive from Longview to Dallas, a 2,5-hour flight from Dallas to Detroit, a 7,5-hour flight from Detroit to Amsterdam, a 1,5-hour flight from Amsterdam to Warsaw, and a 3-hour train ride from Warsaw to Kraków. Thankfully, the weather in Poland improved over the last days and its now above 20 degrees so somewhat comparable to Texas but with less humidity. As much as I am accustomed to long flights, this time it was remarkably long and unpleasant; it will take me a while to get over this jet lag.

Going Home Again

Retaining a strong emotional connection to things that remind you of a period of time that you can no longer hold on is uncomfortable, and sometimes unbearable. Similarly, trying to remain the same person after going through a ground-shaking tragedy is like piecing together a broken eggshell.  For the longest time I didn’t want to leave Canada because it was the new life I chose for myself, and now it was the best I had. I kept investing in the present and in changing myself so that I move on to better thing, but the truth about the events which took place in my family never stopped hunting me and the more I resisted the memory the more it permeated every corner of my existence. Right now t’s April 2011, nearly 4 years since I moved to Canada as a student.  Today I bought a ticket back home and although the perspective of facing the ghosts of the past terrifies me, I believe I can overcome.

Roaming Memoirs

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. – Ernest Hemingway

I arrived in Canada in September 2007. My two suitcases and a backpack were packed overnight but on the emotional level I was preparing myself for that moment ever since my first childhood travels. I have always desired to explore the world, to get outside of the ordinary scope of experience and let myself be carried freely by the roaring storm of life. In a way, I knew this decision would completely reconfigure my sense of belonging but I didn’t expect the extent of transformations would be as vast.

To live a life emotionally and physically torn an ocean apart was always inevitably a challenge, but for a while a manageable one. I saw my home as a place of stillness, a place I imagined would always remain the same, and always await my return. No matter where I was, in my mind I alway had a return ticket ready, but this comfort ended just 2 years after moving to Canada.

Roaming Memoirs was created to narrate what I have experienced at a time when it was extremely difficult for me to express myself. It became a diary of my travels and inspiration, linking my life before and after a family tragedy.