MAGDALENA SOBCZAK offers some explanations on why many Poles in Ireland have yet to form lasting friendships or relationships with the Irish
Not so long ago I came across an article entitled ‘Farewell my friend’, which pondered over how little friendship there is in the present world. The text referred to a survey which tried to establish what things in life were the most important for the Polish. The answers showed that friendship declined drastically in its significance, dropping to 11th place on the list. Health, money and family were considered the most important.
I suppose these results may only show the changes in the lifestyle of contemporary Poles and the results of consumerism and materialism sneaking into people’s lives and eroding human relationships. I started to wonder whether the list would look the same if about Poles living abroad, far away form their families, when friendship is sometimes the only thing that helps one get by. But are the Irish easy to make friends with?
The word ‘friend’ has a much broader meaning in English than in Polish, where ‘przyjaciel’ takes on a greater significance. Poles might have many colleagues, pals, buddies, acquaintances, but they usually choose their ‘friends’ carefully and use this expression to describe somebody who is their confidant, the most supportive, non-judgemental and trustworthy person in their lives, somebody whom the Irish would probably call a ‘best friend’. ‘Przyjaciel’ really should be ‘the one who comes in when the whole world has gone out,’ or as another proverb sums up: ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed.’
So when the Poles start to learn English they find surprising the frequency and connotations with which the English speaking people use the word ‘friend’. It turns out suddenly that everybody can be called your friend – a friend from work, a friend from school, a friend from the local sports club, an old friend, a new friend, an internet friend. You go out with friends, you have lunch with friends, you have nice friends at work – all in all, in Ireland, the ‘no problem’ country, you are surrounded by friends. It is only when the students of English begin to live abroad that they discover the cultural aspect attached to this expression, and are often disillusioned with the sad revelation that, in fact, not every ‘friend’ is a friend.
Webster’s Dictionary of English proposes the following definition of friendship: “The state of being friends; friendly relation, or attachment to a person, or between persons; affection arising from mutual esteem and good will.” Apparently, Poland and Ireland have a history of friendly relations. The fantastic political and economic partnership seems thriving nowadays as a result of the friendly Polish invasion on the island and its equally friendly reception by our Celtic friends – on the national level, at least. But politicians shaking hands and smiling to the cameras aside, what does it look like in the one-to-one everyday ex-change? Whenever I ask a Polish newcomer whether they have any Irish friends, I hear a negative answer. Poles will usually have Polish friends both here and in Poland. Here, these friends are usually the first point of contact when they move to Ireland, helping them to find a job and a place to live. Sometimes my interlocutors will boast about friends from other ethnic groups, but surprisingly no Irish friends. As if the sheer fact that one being an immigrant brings one closer to those who share the same lot, but creates a barrier between oneself and the natives.
I am trying to understand the nuances of cross-cultural friendships, to figure out why it’s so difficult to make friends with the Irish. Is the language barrier to blame? Maybe Poles feel they are treated as inferior, often occupying low profile positions, being poorer, sometimes discriminated against by employers or institutions. Or maybe the Polish and Irish really do not have that much in common, do not think in a similar way. Poles I talk to often admit that they have a workmate or two who they like and occasionally go out with – funny, likable chaps to meet over a pint of beer – but they wouldn’t refer to this as deep and true friendship. After all, they wouldn’t feel comfortable calling them when they are in trouble, when they get sick or simply had a bad day and need to talk to someone. Perhaps if they stayed here long enough, the friendship would develop and become stronger. Perhaps neither side wants to invest in friendship thinking that Poles’ stay in Ireland is only transient and they will disappear sooner or later.
At various times I’ve met with an opinion popular among Poles that the Irish tend to be friendly, helpful and whole-hearted. They are definitely more direct than the British, but there are a few subjects they do not talk about, and when you try to get to know them better they tend to be rather reserved. You can meet them in a pub, for example, but they will never ever invite you to their own house. My Irish acquaintance tried to explain to me that the Irish make friends at school and in college and they keep them like a lifelong promise. They are not looking for more. He stressed that maybe if I had kids and started to meet other parents at school meetings and birthday parties, the local inhabitants would get to know me and I would get to know them too, that they will accept me and eventually some friendships could develop.
I started to suspect that it might be the case that in Ireland you must first show strong commitment to your local community, to gain their trust, in order to deserve their friendship and support. I am really looking forward to it, because no matter where you live, being able to rely on friendly and loving souls is extremely reassuring and life sustaining. As another saying goes: ‘Sine amico nihil amicum’ – there is no hope of joy except in human relations.
I suppose these results may only show the changes in the lifestyle of contemporary Poles and the results of consumerism and materialism sneaking into people’s lives and eroding human relationships. I started to wonder whether the list would look the same if about Poles living abroad, far away form their families, when friendship is sometimes the only thing that helps one get by. But are the Irish easy to make friends with?
The word ‘friend’ has a much broader meaning in English than in Polish, where ‘przyjaciel’ takes on a greater significance. Poles might have many colleagues, pals, buddies, acquaintances, but they usually choose their ‘friends’ carefully and use this expression to describe somebody who is their confidant, the most supportive, non-judgemental and trustworthy person in their lives, somebody whom the Irish would probably call a ‘best friend’. ‘Przyjaciel’ really should be ‘the one who comes in when the whole world has gone out,’ or as another proverb sums up: ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed.’
So when the Poles start to learn English they find surprising the frequency and connotations with which the English speaking people use the word ‘friend’. It turns out suddenly that everybody can be called your friend – a friend from work, a friend from school, a friend from the local sports club, an old friend, a new friend, an internet friend. You go out with friends, you have lunch with friends, you have nice friends at work – all in all, in Ireland, the ‘no problem’ country, you are surrounded by friends. It is only when the students of English begin to live abroad that they discover the cultural aspect attached to this expression, and are often disillusioned with the sad revelation that, in fact, not every ‘friend’ is a friend.
Webster’s Dictionary of English proposes the following definition of friendship: “The state of being friends; friendly relation, or attachment to a person, or between persons; affection arising from mutual esteem and good will.” Apparently, Poland and Ireland have a history of friendly relations. The fantastic political and economic partnership seems thriving nowadays as a result of the friendly Polish invasion on the island and its equally friendly reception by our Celtic friends – on the national level, at least. But politicians shaking hands and smiling to the cameras aside, what does it look like in the one-to-one everyday ex-change? Whenever I ask a Polish newcomer whether they have any Irish friends, I hear a negative answer. Poles will usually have Polish friends both here and in Poland. Here, these friends are usually the first point of contact when they move to Ireland, helping them to find a job and a place to live. Sometimes my interlocutors will boast about friends from other ethnic groups, but surprisingly no Irish friends. As if the sheer fact that one being an immigrant brings one closer to those who share the same lot, but creates a barrier between oneself and the natives.
I am trying to understand the nuances of cross-cultural friendships, to figure out why it’s so difficult to make friends with the Irish. Is the language barrier to blame? Maybe Poles feel they are treated as inferior, often occupying low profile positions, being poorer, sometimes discriminated against by employers or institutions. Or maybe the Polish and Irish really do not have that much in common, do not think in a similar way. Poles I talk to often admit that they have a workmate or two who they like and occasionally go out with – funny, likable chaps to meet over a pint of beer – but they wouldn’t refer to this as deep and true friendship. After all, they wouldn’t feel comfortable calling them when they are in trouble, when they get sick or simply had a bad day and need to talk to someone. Perhaps if they stayed here long enough, the friendship would develop and become stronger. Perhaps neither side wants to invest in friendship thinking that Poles’ stay in Ireland is only transient and they will disappear sooner or later.
At various times I’ve met with an opinion popular among Poles that the Irish tend to be friendly, helpful and whole-hearted. They are definitely more direct than the British, but there are a few subjects they do not talk about, and when you try to get to know them better they tend to be rather reserved. You can meet them in a pub, for example, but they will never ever invite you to their own house. My Irish acquaintance tried to explain to me that the Irish make friends at school and in college and they keep them like a lifelong promise. They are not looking for more. He stressed that maybe if I had kids and started to meet other parents at school meetings and birthday parties, the local inhabitants would get to know me and I would get to know them too, that they will accept me and eventually some friendships could develop.
I started to suspect that it might be the case that in Ireland you must first show strong commitment to your local community, to gain their trust, in order to deserve their friendship and support. I am really looking forward to it, because no matter where you live, being able to rely on friendly and loving souls is extremely reassuring and life sustaining. As another saying goes: ‘Sine amico nihil amicum’ – there is no hope of joy except in human relations.
