Euro Filipino Journal: Gene Alcantara

Filipinos Respected in Spain

July 13, 2016 Admin 0

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Spain as a country is very much intertwined with the history and culture of the Philippines, having been its colonial master for almost 4 centuries, until the Philippine Revolution of 1898.  It remains an important destination for Filipinos who may want to see places and monuments associated with the country’s national heroes.  Nowadays a vibrant and active Filipino community lives, works and carries on as new Spanish-Filipinos. 
 
Ipinagmamalaki ni Consul General Cookie Feria ng Embajada de Filipinas ang Filipino community sa Espanya. 
 
Bukod kasi sa kanilang sipag at tiyaga sa trabaho, marami na rin sa kanila ang unti-unting nag-iisip ng negosyo upang umangat ang katatayuan. 
 
Malakas din ang impact nila sa mga Kastila na mataas ang tingin sa kanila at humahanga sa kanilang dalang kultura sa bansang ito. 
 
Maging ang matataas na opisyal sa pamahalaan ng Espanya ay mga Pinoy din ang hanap na empleyado kung mga pamilya nila ang pag-uusapan. 
 
Dagdag niya, “Their employers also are the movers and shakers here, diba? The mga government officials here in Madrid, their employees are Filipinos… when the (city) President’s nurse stepped down, I got a phone call from the secretary of the President asking me to find a Pinay to take care of her parents. Doesn’t that say something great about us, how Spanish think of FIlipinos…” 
 
Tinatayang may mahigit mga 45,000 Pinoy sa buong Espanya at bagama’t marami sa kanila ang nagtatrabaho sa mga bahay-bahay, marami rin ang nagpapatakbo ng mga establishments dito na nagbibigay sa kanila ng idea at experience sa business. 
 
Ayon kay Ms Feria – “It is a good indication of Filipinos trying to branch out from being employees to being employers and entrepreneurs, little by little they are growing, it’s a learning experience. You see that the establishments are basically one man operations you know and basically they are actually still catering to the Fil community; it would be nice to see them cater to the local community, the Spanish community, maybe by way of opening up restaurants, maybe other services for instance… A lot of Filipinos here we are the waiters in the restaurants or the cooks — why can’t they be the owners, they are the ones who practically run business… That would be the logical step.” 
 
Ayon kay Congen Feria ang importante lang dito ay marunong ka ng wikang Kastila upang makapag-business ka at makapag-take advantage sa mga suportang ibinibigay ng Spanish government sa mga migrante. 
 
Ang wikang Kastila ay hindi mahirap para sa mga Pinoy dahil sa ating kasaysayan, at dahil mula high school hanggang kolehiyo ay pinag-aaralan natin ito sa Pilipinas. 
 
Sa totoo lang nakatutuwang marinig na maging ang mga kabataang naglalaro ng basketball sa Madrid, pati ang mga manonood, ay Kastila ang usapan. 
 
Ang Madrid ay puno rin ng mga bagay-bagay na Pinoy na mabibili halimbawa sa mga antique markets o shops tulad ng paintings, carvings, mga mapa atbp na dala ng mga Kastilang nanggaling sa atin noong unang panahonm nang ang Pilipinas ay nasasakop pa ng Espanya. 
 
Mayroon din ditong mga permanent exhibits sa mga museo tungkol sa Pilipinas at ang mayaman nitong kultura. 
 
Hindi rin mahirap ma-inspire ang mga Pinoy dito dahil magpunta lang sila sa Avenida de Filipinas, sa metro Islas Filipinas, ay makikita nila doon ang rebulto ni Dr Jose Rizal na replika ng nasa Luneta, at mababasa pa ang kabuuan ng kanyang tulang Mi Ultimo Adios sa Kastila at Filipino, nakaukit sa plakeng bronze. 
 
Kinumpirma naman ni Ambassador Joseph Bernardo ang magandang katatayuan ng mga Pinoy sa Espanya. 
 
Ayon kay Ambassador Bernardo, “Napakagaling ng community natin dito. Wala tayong problema at iginagalang sila ng mga Kastila at mahal na mahal sila para silang miyembro ng mga pamilya.” 
 
Umaasa rin siya na lalong darami ang mga Filipino entrepreneurs sa Espanya pagdating ng araw.
 
 
 
 
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Spain as a country is very much intertwined with the history and culture of the Philippines, having been its colonial master for almost 4 ...

David Medalla Shines at Royal Academy of Art

July 13, 2016 Admin 0

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In his show held at the GSK Contemporary exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art in London, Filipino painter David Medalla showed why he is considered one of the top Filipino and indeed international artists of his time. 
 
His exhibited works at the famed Academy included a huge painting of Filipino fishermen at midnight, a virtual sculpture of Venus de Milo, and a handpainted silk scarf. 
 
The oil painting on canvas entitled “Night Fishing On Manila Bay” measuring 326 cms width x 193 cms height, and composed of panels, covered a whole wall of the venue and viewers will need to go back a bit in order to view the whole landscape. 
 
David Medalla, the artist with his short white hair and silk scarf, said —  “Alam mo ito, gumawa ako ng 24 na mga paintings ng buhay sa atin mula sa bukid hanggang sa lungsod, magmula  sa umaga hanggang hatinggabi tapos umaga  na naman.  You know, sa liwayway ng araw.  Nag-umpisa sa bayan, nung hatinggabi ganyan, naging  turning point.  So it’s a celebration of life in our country.” 
 
[Trans – “You know what, I made 24 paintings of life back home from the fields to the city, from morning to midnight until morning again.  You know, from the rising of the sun.  Starting from the town, then like this at midnight, it became a turning point.   So it’s a celebration of life in our country.”] 
 
His Venus de Milo is meant for active participation of the gallery-goer in the way they interact with the virtual sculpture.  The way the participant poses gives the impression of giving the world famous sculpted woman arms and hands which would otherwise be missing. 
 
Medalla has been living in Europe for more than four decades, and is based in Bracknell, Berkshire.  Ever since he was a student at Columbia University in the 1950s he was already known for what he calls ‘visionary art’ and performance art. 
 
Guy Brett, the art critic & author and long time friend of Medalla, in his black beret and glasses, said  – “Yes, well I’ve known David since 1960.  I met him in 1960 when he first arrived in London from the Philippines and I followed all the different phases that his work has been through but I know that he’s always painted from the beginning from the time that he was a teenager in Manila and he’s still painting.  Every now and then he produces a painting which  somehow has a style which is not really  like anybody else’s. “ 
 
 Looking at the fishermen painting, Brett said, “Ah so this is the first time I’ve seen this painting it tells me he’s still working on it.  It’s not finished yet.” 
 
In addition to the Royal Academy, Medalla was also the first Filipino artist whose work was purchased by the Tate Modern in the Southbank, for the whopping sum of £30,000 (around Php 2-3 million). 
 
This was “Cloud Canyons No. 3”, one in a series of his iconic “Bubble Machines”, which is now on permanent exhibit at the huge warehouse-like art repository by the River Thames. 
 
Another art historian/critic who was at Medalla’s opening, Alison Green, with her black swept back hair and dangling earrings, confirmed his role in modern art – “Ah I think this is a great opportunity to get to know David Medalla’s work.  Since the mid 1960’s David Medalla’s a major international figure in contemporary practice.  Except he’s done this by intentionally occupying the peripheries of art making and the art establishment and playing the provocateur in that relationship, ah challenging the viewers in terms of their preconceptions of art.” 
 
She continued, “What’s interesting about him is his longevity, the fact that he has continued to be innovative and to respond to challenges to himself and to his work and to continue in a way to stay relevant to what is happening right now.  It’s a major achievement, I believe.” 
 
Whilst his name is already known in modern art circles worldwide, Medalla continues to show his Filipino roots in his artistic creations, and on a more practical and nationalistic level, by continuing to hold on to his Philippine nationality and passport, despite having been a permanent resident of the United Kingdom for many years. 
 
Medalla was one of seven artists invited to bring out a limited edition of scarves so that art lovers attending the Academy exhibit could bring home an affordable souvenir with them.  Truly a limited edition, Medalla only produced 30 scarves and even at the rate of £120 each, the lot went very quickly. 
 
It would be very difficult indeed for any other artist to achieve what David Medalla has already done in international art, and with his exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art his name, and the country he represents, will take on extra brilliance. 
 
 
 
[Written in November 2008]
 
 
 
 
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Art Articles Contributors England Events UK Gene Alcantara David Medalla Shines at Royal Academy of Art

In his show held at the GSK Contemporary exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art in London, Filipino painter David Medalla showed why he is...

Filipinos Respected in Spain

May 22, 2013 El Talonggo 0

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Spain as a country is very much intertwined with the history and culture of the Philippines, having been its colonial master for almost 4 centuries, until the Philippine Revolution of 1898.  It remains an important destination for Filipinos who may want to see places and monuments associated with the country’s national heroes.  Nowadays a vibrant and active Filipino community lives, works and carries on as new Spanish-Filipinos. Ipinagmamalaki ni Consul General Cookie Feria ng Embajada de Filipinas ang Filipino community sa Espanya. Bukod kasi sa kanilang sipag at tiyaga sa trabaho, marami na rin sa kanila ang unti-unting nag-iisip ng negosyo upang umangat ang katatayuan. Malakas din ang impact nila sa mga Kastila na mataas ang tingin sa kanila at humahanga sa kanilang dalang kultura sa bansang ito. Maging ang matataas na opisyal sa pamahalaan ng Espanya ay mga Pinoy din ang hanap na empleyado kung mga pamilya nila ang pag-uusapan. Dagdag niya, “Their employers also are the movers and shakers here, diba? The mga government officials here in Madrid, their employees are Filipinos… when the (city) President’s nurse stepped down, I got a phone call from the secretary of the President asking me to find a Pinay to take care of her parents. Doesn’t that say something great about us, how Spanish think of FIlipinos…” Tinatayang may mahigit mga 45,000 Pinoy sa buong Espanya at bagama’t marami sa kanila ang nagtatrabaho sa mga bahay-bahay, marami rin ang nagpapatakbo ng mga establishments dito na nagbibigay sa kanila ng idea at experience sa business. Ayon kay Ms Feria – “It is a good indication of Filipinos trying to branch out from being employees to being employers and entrepreneurs, little by little they are growing, it’s a learning experience. You see that the establishments are basically one man operations you know and basically they are actually still catering to the Fil community; it would be nice to see them cater to the local community, the Spanish community, maybe by way of opening up restaurants, maybe other services for instance… A lot of Filipinos here we are the waiters in the restaurants or the cooks — why can’t they be the owners, they are the ones who practically run business… That would be the logical step.” Ayon kay Congen Feria ang importante lang dito ay marunong ka ng wikang Kastila upang makapag-business ka at makapag-take advantage sa mga suportang ibinibigay ng Spanish government sa mga migrante. Ang wikang Kastila ay hindi mahirap para sa mga Pinoy dahil sa ating kasaysayan, at dahil mula high school hanggang kolehiyo ay pinag-aaralan natin ito sa Pilipinas. Sa totoo lang nakatutuwang marinig na maging ang mga kabataang naglalaro ng basketball sa Madrid, pati ang mga manonood, ay Kastila ang usapan. Ang Madrid ay puno rin ng mga bagay-bagay na Pinoy na mabibili halimbawa sa mga antique markets o shops tulad ng paintings, carvings, mga mapa atbp na dala ng mga Kastilang nanggaling sa atin noong unang panahonm nang ang Pilipinas ay nasasakop pa ng Espanya. Mayroon din ditong mga permanent exhibits sa mga museo tungkol sa Pilipinas at ang mayaman nitong kultura. Hindi rin mahirap ma-inspire ang mga Pinoy dito dahil magpunta lang sila sa Avenida de Filipinas, sa metro Islas Filipinas, ay makikita nila doon ang rebulto ni Dr Jose Rizal na replika ng nasa Luneta, at mababasa pa ang kabuuan ng kanyang tulang Mi Ultimo Adios sa Kastila at Filipino, nakaukit sa plakeng bronze. Kinumpirma naman ni Ambassador Joseph Bernardo ang magandang katatayuan ng mga Pinoy sa Espanya. Ayon kay Ambassador Bernardo, “Napakagaling ng community natin dito. Wala tayong problema at iginagalang sila ng mga Kastila at mahal na mahal sila para silang miyembro ng mga pamilya.” Umaasa rin siya na lalong darami ang mga Filipino entrepreneurs sa Espanya pagdating ng araw. by Gene Alcantara 
 
 
 
 
 
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Continent Gene Alcantara Spain Stories Filipinos Respected in Spain

Spain as a country is very much intertwined with the history and culture of the Philippines, having been its colonial master for almost 4 ...

Ghosts at Wrobla

September 30, 2002 El Talonggo 0

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— by Gene Alcantara 
 
Not many people believe in ghosts.  This much I know.  Or perhaps many people would rather deny the possibility of the existence of ghosts for whatever reason, than having to deal with the scary prospect of seeing a spectre.  They would say, “Hmmm, hard to believe.  Are you sure it was not the wind or just your playful imagination?”  Well, if only. As for me, well, I do believe in ghosts.  Or rather I have to believe because I have experience of them first hand.  Right in the very house I lived in on Wrobla Street in Warsaw for the last three and a half years.  If anybody had told me before I came that there was a ghost in the house I would probably have treated the matter with some skepticism (Oh, ok, trepidation, but only a bit!). My first experience of the ghost at Wrobla happened in the first year of my posting when I was on my own, about three years ago.  I was facing the oven about 10-11 pm at night heating up one of those frozen packets of Spanish Paella or Mexican chicken.  Suddenly at the periphery of my left vision I sort of detected a faint movement in the archway leading to the dining room.  Naturally I turned my head to look and when I did, all my hair stood on end.  I felt my scalp tingling as my hair rose of its own accord, and I knew fear.  For there was this white woman peeking at me with a smile, long dark hair flowing down.  My stomach was suddenly filled with ice but although the terrifying vision only lasted perhaps a second, it is permanently imprinted in my memory.  I am normally a brave man but I was scared and had to call my family in London to seek some comfort. That was really the first and last time I had an encounter with the apparition until in April this year, a female friend, Normie Lopez de la Rosa, who transferred from Turkey and had some psychic talent, attempted to treat another friend, Fe Grzybowski, whom she believed was being bewitched.  This she did in the house apparently through some sort of prayer and ceremony.  I did not witness this myself as I was away in Berlin at the time competing in an international public speaking competition.  Somehow the ceremony seemed to have perhaps opened some mystical doorway or triggered some psychic phenomenon because when I got back from Germany I started having strange and scary nightmares.  And my family, who had since joined me in Warsaw, started hearing strange noises at night.  No one would venture down into the basement laundry room alone once dusk fell, for Normie said that this was the place where the ghost seemed to hang around. To deal with the problem once and for all, we called in a priest from the huge Catholic church on Dominikanska Street who came, prayed and blessed all corners of the house.  Unfortunately I don’t think it completely got rid of the ghost but we somehow got reassured that we have involved a man of God. As for me, I tried to deal with the ghost also.  Normie said it was a young woman she saw in our laundry room.  I went down one evening to “talk” to  the ghost and ask that it not bother my family.  But the minute I stepped foot on the basement floor, my head was enclosed by a cold presence and my hair stood on end again.  So I beat a hasty retreat back up the stairs (I mean, I ran back upstairs!).  Since then the family ended up leaving the lights on on the stairs all night, and the radio on on low volume.  We even had a few icons hung around although they seemed never enough.  Somehow I would still be woken up at night by something touching my face or a noise or a bad dream. When my children Giselle and Terence visited from university in May and June, I deliberately did not tell them about the ghost that haunted the house at Wrobla.  But I did not reckon on my youngest daughter Melissa telling them not to enter the first floor bedroom because apparently that was where she once saw her electronic piano playing by itself.  They were skeptical at first, my teenage kids, but when one night Giselle woke up hearing and feeling footsteps in her room in the middle of the night, they became firmly aware of the ghost. Two friends of mine, Dee Calmel and Edyta Ganczarczyk, said perhaps that the ghost was interested in me, liked me, and probably was protecting me and the house somehow.  Carmila, my spouse, tried to be brave about it – she was not about to give me up for a ghost!  For if it was an unfriendly ghost it might have done us or our relationship harm.  It could even be apparently a naughty ghost who moved things around the house because  sometimes we ended up not finding things where we were supposed to have left them.  This last was true because looking back over the years, I have indeed lost or misplaced items of clothing and other small things and I had always suspected my cleaner Pani Grazyna of hiding them! Actually Wrobla was not my first experience of ghosts in Poland.  About two years earlier I went to attend a series of classical and jazz concerts sponsored by the British Council in Zabrze and in Tarnowskie Gory in the southern part of the country.  In winter it was, late in cold November.  The Zabrze event went very well and the following day I travelled to Tarnowskie Gory and looked for my hotel in the town.  It turned out that my hotel was some distance away in a village called Rybna.  It took the taxi about 20 minutes to get to the village across white fields.  The hotel was in fact a 200-year old palace called Palac Na Rybny, a magnificent green building right in the middle of this snow-covered estate with leafless trees around.  My room was a huge apartment on the first floor with impressive original 17th-18th century furniture and a palace room feel to it.  Only I could not sleep a wink, the bedroom felt very strange indeed as if there was somebody there watching me, and I kept hearing all sorts of peculiar sounds.  I thought there was a ghost in the bedroom.  I spent the night with all the lights on watching BBC World. So was I perhaps simply sensitive to supernatural things?  Well possibly.  The presence of a ghost in the house was further confirmed by an independent person.  At the end of July I ran an international health and safety course in Warsaw and hosted dinner at home one night for the participants.  A  Brazilian colleague, Alexander W, who was into yoga, psychic stuff and out-of-body experiences confided in me the following day while having lunch at the Patio Restaurant that he saw two manifestations in the garden of the house at Wrobla.  One was apparently a yellow circle of light/energy  normally associated with Buddhism.  When he asked if I was a Buddhist or have anything to do with Buddhism, I said no but that I did have a collection of amulets and charms from the Philippines, Hong Kong and other places which might emit such yellow light.  The other thing Alexander saw apparently was the ghost of a young woman standing in the backgarden.  He said that he did not feel anything negative about the ghost so it was possibly a friendly one.  In a way I was pleased by the fact that the ghost appeared a friendly one, but I was even more pleased to get confirmation that it was true that my house was host indeed to some supernatural presence, considering the skeptical tones some British colleagues made when they heard my story . My landlord, Jerzy Buczkowski, was sympathetic but adamant that nobody had died in the house.  It was a relatively new house and my predecessor and I were the only tenants.  So perhaps the ghost was of someone who died a long time ago, for who knows what the place was like over the long bloody course of Polish history? Another psychic friend in London, Diana Reed, gave me a smudge wand made of Taos sage, cedar and juniper, all sacred Native American herbs, to smoke the house out one night to clear it of the ghost.  The term ‘smudging’ is supposed to be the practice of cleansing ritual spaces, altars and tools with the smoke for purification and protection.  Well, I had not managed to do it despite repeatedly wanting to, with something else always happening, and so I eventually left the house with it undone at the end of my posting. The house at Wrobla was a lovely six-floor house, and I have many fond memories of living there.  Sharing the house though with a ghost did not really inspire much confidence especially at night when all one wanted and needed to do was to have some sleep.  Perhaps the female ghost was indeed looking after me and protecting the house, but it was not the kind of caring that I really would like to have.  Not in Poland.  Not anywhere else if I could help it. 
 
Written in 30 September 2002. Revised 9 October 2012.
 
 
 
 
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Continent Gene Alcantara Journal Poland Stories Ghosts at Wrobla

Photo from commons.wikimedia.org — by Gene Alcantara Not many people believe in ghosts. This much I know. Or perhaps many people wou...

Russian Market

August 22, 2001 El Talonggo 0

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMiMzUWgUX4uamIQNVkshfirGhbpS9TJRdx2EOZa0S0Sf6CEXW_a58k6kiT4q5-s54D7LEB3wmQLluZQ9du8iXWoMFvxYn1DrJxo2m0J5hszsiyShwFV3VYCYgZRCdWBp8CgoZ6Tvzq3h/s1600/6633915161_30f7c78723_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMiMzUWgUX4uamIQNVkshfirGhbpS9TJRdx2EOZa0S0Sf6CEXW_a58k6kiT4q5-s54D7LEB3wmQLluZQ9du8iXWoMFvxYn1DrJxo2m0J5hszsiyShwFV3VYCYgZRCdWBp8CgoZ6Tvzq3h/s320/6633915161_30f7c78723_z.jpg" width="320" /></a>When I tell Polish friends and colleagues that I go regularly to Warsaw’s Russian market, many of them react with horror. They might look at mewith incredulity, perhaps to see if I was joking or whether I had simply gone bananas. Their response would inevitably be, “Oh, it’s a very dangerous place.” “It’s all fake, you know.” “It’s run by the Mafia.” Or some other equally unfavourable phrases. Even some of my British and Irish friends react negatively to the idea of going to the market. But have they actually been there? Many reply, “Never!” I am afraid that they are all missing something. The Russian market, whatever its reputation, is something that needs to be experienced by every visitor to the Polish capital. It is part of the landscape, the tapestry that makes Warsaw one of the liveliest capitals in Central and East Europe. I cannot speak for the Poles who obviously decide what they want to see of the reality of their own city, but for fellow Brits especially I don’t think one can say he or she has lived in Warsaw without seeing its most famous market. There one can find colour, stumble upon drama, catch a whiff of poetry, and obviously grab a good bargain. CDs abound, very good copies of the latest releases which I understand get shipped over from farther east, and are sold for just 10 zloties (that is about GBP 1.50 – try comparing that with prices in Virgin or HMV music stores in the UK!). Sure, you might want simply to look but, just in case, there are swords, medals, gloves, busts of Lenin or Stalin, fox stoles, matrioshka dolls, lacquer boxes, pistols, knives, fur coats, cheap socks, shoes, shirts, clothes, pots and pans, tea urns, coffee grinders, books, African carvings, vegetables, fruits, drivers license, M&S plastic bags, mobile phone cases, CD-Roms, software programmes, games, puppies, shower heads, whisky bottles and more besides. True, there are lots of fakes—one can get his and hers colour-changing Calvin Klein watches for 25 zloties (GBP4) each. Actually the place is not even called Russian Market by the Poles. Its full name is Stadion Dziecieciolecia, since it is an old football stadium. The market sits atop the circumference of the disused stadium, with different sections scattered around the ever-widening base of the circular pyramid. The top is the best bit to head for, with its magnificent view of the Warsaw skyline, as well as the tragic view of the stadium’s decaying bleachers. One particular spot to the right presents an excellent photo shoot, with the Palace of Culture in the background. The market is located on the left hand side just past the Poniatowskiego Most (bridge) which spans the Wisla River. It is walking distance from Centrum, the centre of town, and therefore very accessible; otherwise it is the first tram stop after the river. It is open very early, some old timers claim from 6 am, and then closes around 1-2pm when business dwindles to nothing. There might be Russian traders there but the sellers of CDs sound very Polish. There are black Africans, lots of Orientals (mostly Vietnamese, I believe), and a handful of Asians from the sub-continent. I think the stadium rynek in Warsaw is quite unique. There is not a similar market elsewhere in Poland or indeed in Europe in terms of size and setting. I was for example in the black market in Riga’s Russian district in Latvia recently, and I was very disappointed by it. I wanted to see colour, bustle, and lots of merchandise to choose from. What I saw was gray and rusty brown, a boring rectangle of low small huts arranged in rows with little corridors, but only selling all sorts of metal, electrical, and machinery parts although I did see a child’s bike. Yes, there was a book stall and pirated CDs, porno and computer games, touted by black leather-jacketed young Russians, but somehow it did not have the same pulse, and the odours were overpowering.. 
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 Going to the Russian market requires some planning, of course. You don’t just go there on a whim. You must not dress to kill and you do not go there bedecked with jewelry, or with piles of cash in your pocket. Just bring enough for the odd bargain—if you need more cash then there are bankomats around the corner on Francuszka. One must consciously avoid bringing expensive cameras. You do not want any come on from potential muggers. And of course you cannot bring young children with you, for the Russian market is very crowded indeed on a Sunday morning. How crowded, you ask? Imagine the rush-hour in the Warsaw metro at 8 am during school term. There is an art to going to the Russian market too, or should I say an art to getting a good bargain. A visit to the market is never complete until you emerge with something you successfully haggled over. Basically one does not jump at the first cheap-sounding offer for a chunk of amber with fauna trapped inside for eternity, or for the most dramatic, original looking silver-surrounded ikon you have cast your eyes on. Remember that the stall-holders are experts at spotting dupes, and I understand that there will always be a higher starting price when it’s a foreigner asking. Try bargaining first by cutting the price to half then work your way up slowly—if it is really expensive, you won’t get any more than 10% reduction. But it is worth a try. A few pretend about-turns might just net you a few satisfying extra zloties in savings. Punters can watch operators transform their questionable wares into respectable lines say in handbags or shirts at the flick of a hand. Somehow if a police inspector arrives, everybody knows it and one moment a stall is full of pirated CDs, the next moment it only sells bags or branded t-shirts. My friend Javed Iqbal from Pakistan was equally fascinated by this ‘magic’ trick as well as by my linguistic skill at bargaining in my passable Russian-Polish with a Lithuanian amber-seller who it turned out knew English after all. If you get thirsty watching all this palaver, there are trolleys selling hot drinks, but it is best to avoid the wasp-surrounded mounds of bread. I think the stadium rynek in Warsaw is quite unique. There is not a similar market elsewhere in Poland or indeed in Europe in terms of size and setting. I was for example in the black market in Riga’s Russian district in Latvia recently, and I was very disappointed by it. I wanted to see colour, bustle, and lots of merchandise to choose from. What I saw was gray and rusty brown, a boring rectangle of low small huts arranged in rows with little corridors, but only selling all sorts of metal, electrical, and machinery parts although I did see a child’s bike. Yes, there was a book stall and pirated CDs, porno and computer games, touted by black leather-jacketed young Russians, but somehow it did not have the same pulse, and the odours were overpowering.. Going to the Russian market requires some planning, of course. You don’t just go there on a whim. You must not dress to kill and you do not go there bedecked with jewelry, or with piles of cash in your pocket. Just bring enough for the odd bargain—if you need more cash then there arebankomats around the corner on Francuszka. One must consciously avoid bringing expensive cameras. You do not want any come on from potential muggers. And of course you cannot bring young children with you, for the Russian market is very crowded indeed on a Sunday morning. How crowded, you ask? Imagine the rush-hour in the Warsaw metro at 8 am during school term. There is an art to going to the Russian market too, or should I say an art to getting a good bargain. A visit to the market is never complete until you emerge with something you successfully haggled over. Basically one does not jump at the first cheap-sounding offer for a chunk of amber with fauna trapped inside for eternity, or for the most dramatic, original looking silver-surrounded ikon you have cast your eyes on. Remember that the stall-holders are experts at spotting dupes, and I understand that there will always be a higher starting price when it’s a foreigner asking. Try bargaining first by cutting the price to half then work your way up slowly—if it is really expensive, you won’t get any more than 10% reduction. But it is worth a try. A few pretend about-turns might just net you a few satisfying extra zloties in savings. I have heard of people getting really good buys, with one or two gems of a find. One claims to have purchased an antique Russian watch for a song which turned out to be genuine and belonged to some aristocrat before the Russian revolution. When the Inocians (Junix, Annie and Ynaqui) came to visit with my family (Carmila and Melissa) in the summer they bought lots of lacquer boxes. I myself am very proud of a raw amber chunk I bought for 70 zloties (about GBP10) which has a pre-historic mosquito and another tiny insect in it. And sshh.. don’t tell anybody but I have also purchased one or two religious artefacts which appear to have survived the cultural conflagration of 1917 Russia, although my teacher friends at the British Council have always insisted they are of very recent vintage. One can get attached to this Polish manifestation of the free market economy. I have experienced it now in all weathers to savour its various hues and sounds and flavours. I have sloshed there in the snow, got wet in the rain, sweated under the sun, and once almost got blown off the top by howling winds. Whatever the weather, the market remains true to its attraction as a seething cauldron of bargain-hunting humanity, young and old, rivalling the magnificent covered souks of say Bahrain, Istanbul or Rabat, except that nobody wore exotic costumes. Having gotten used to the magnificent setting of the Warsaw market atop the pyramid of the stadium, I know I will never be satisfied by other markets in the same way again. It’s not quite Portobello, I know, but the area is not Notting Hill either. I always show Warsaw’s historical Old Town Square first to visiting relatives and friends, followed by an hour or two in the Russian market and they are always staggered by the experience. I know that it could equally dumbfound my local friends if they would only venture forth. And just wait till I tell them about the Kolo antiques market… [This article was written by the author during his British Council assignment to Warsaw, Poland 1999-2002]
 
 
 
 
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Continent Gene Alcantara Poland Stories Russian Market

When I tell Polish friends and colleagues that I go regularly to Warsaw’s Russian market, many of them react with horror. They might look at...

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