The importance of being polite.
Stan Krawczyk • 24 December 2019
The importance of being polite, otherwise known as The Kaszanka Incident.
The Kaszanka Incident sounds like a 1970's disaster film, well it nearly was.
Let me explain.
Maybe because I grew up surrounded by the older generation in the Polish community, they were generally very nice and exceptionally polite people.
Polish language even today (ignoring the swearing) is still a very civilised way to speak. You always address people, Sir or Madam never 'Oi you fat face?' Although when people ask me about Polish swear words (being a good Catholic boy) I really don't know any, but they always remember Gruba Dupa when I tell them? Yes that is as harsh as it gets.
Even when people are rude I just can't bring myself to be rude back (well maybe just a few 100 times) but BMW driver's really do not own the road!!!!
Frankly I could have been a professional butler if it wasn't for my sausage fingers and clumsiness.
Once in Poland with mum, she went shopping and I was playing outside with some new found friends in the sandpit. It was getting near teatime so I went back up the stairs to the flat. I knock on the door but nobody answered?
'Oh maybe mum is not back yet' I thought? At that point the next door neighbour, who was a lovely lady opened the door and asked me if I was ok? 'Come in' she said 'wait for mum here'.
'Why don't you have something to eat whilst you wait?' she said, 'Thank you' I replied politely, because that's what you do.
So we sat down and she put the tea out, something called Kaszanka (which is basically Polish Black Pudding.) She gave me a largish bowl, loose meat the same as the wee Scots eat Haggis, pan fried and fancy free!
I had never tasted this thing before? From the first spoonful I knew I didn't want to have anymore, it was basically greasy mince meat (with pigs blood vegetarians look away now). I didn't like the taste or the smell (which as I type this has just come back to me oooh I feel ill).
But of course this nice lady had taken me in so I polished off the lot! 'Oh' she said 'You must be hungry?' and promptly filled up the plate to the top with a second helping!! Polish portions are not small by any means.
I started on this second plate. I was just too polite and shy to say 'No thank you' plus she had already put it out, it would be very impolite of me to leave it. I somehow managed to finish that one off just in time for a knock on the door and it was mum! Was I pleased to see her!
This kind of situation has followed me through the years! For example I don't like fish, never have due to my mums insistence on cremating the smelliest fish in the kitchen and stinking the house out for 2 days!
Once I was given a smoked salmon pasta, 'It's just like smoked ham' I was told! I ate it but it WAS NOT like smoked ham I can tell you. I was impressed I didn't see it again later that evening?
I am probably the last person left on the planet to hold a door open for somebody? When I do, people either barge past you or look at you thinking am I going to steal their wallet or bag?
But even during these times where nobody seems to care about anything but cute kittens on Facebook or orange people with caterpillar eyebrows having a crisis when they break an expensive nail, it still pays to be polite.
There I am , tie proper shirt and smart tank top! (They will be back in fashion again mark my words!) Sat in the front room (best room) on a Remploy rocker, dads photographic model and it must be a Sunday after Mass dressed like that?
Either that or I am an extra from The Sweeney!
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