Poland. Here I am, in the world of complete absurdity. The land where every fifth person has died in the Second World War, 1/5 of the nation lives abroad and a half of residents is in their twenties. The land which has got twice more students than France and an engineer earns less than pedestrian workman. The land where men spend twice more money than they earn, where average income per capita doesn't exceed a tost of three pairs of good shoes, where there's (almost) no poverty at the same time and the outside capital thrusts every possible way. The land governed by ex-socialists, where the church festival is a day off. The foreigner has to scratch with any logic if he doesn't want to go haywire. A wierd land where despite of being able to speak english with a waiter, french with a chef and german with a seller, you must have a translator to talk with Prime Minister or any other civil servant. Poles...! How do you to do it...?
Anything else? If you've understood my bad english, no. If you didn't - nothing either.