Defiance

Agnieszka carefully applied her mascara while Ewa was yelling at her to hurry up. With the nation-wide mask mandate, Agnieszka felt strongly that all of one’s character now more than ever had to be expressed through the eyes and she wanted to be sure that hers stood out. There were only a few more hours of Sunday afternoon sunlight left and they had been feeling cooped up since Christmas and looking for any excuse to ride the SKM just to venture off beyond the neighbourhood.

They fastened their boots, wrapped themselves in their scarves, and headed out of their apartment kicking the new-fallen snow on the sidewalks of Wrzeszcz just outside of downtown Gdansk. They rushed past the cukiernie and sklepy to the underground tunnel of the station to catch the train out through Tri-city to Sopot where reports were that the beach was open.

It had been grim and gray outside for weeks to match the mood of the Polish people. As girls in their mid-twenties, Agnieszka and Ewa felt particularly put upon not only by the restrictive measures that the government had put in place to curb the spread of the virus but also by the government’s decision to introduce legislation outlawing abortions and limiting a woman’s right to the control of her own body.

“The government really knows how to add insult to injury,” Ewa would say, “since there is no chance to even meet a man to have sex with because we are not supposed to even go outside.”

It had been three weeks since Christmas with steady rain every day and barely the shadow of a soul in the streets outside of their apartment. Case numbers were now trending down and rumours of the government easing restrictions had brought the people outside. Like Agnieszka and Ewa, they had had enough of being inside and of being afraid. The temperature was dropping and the rain in the early afternoon had turned to light snow evoking the tender feelings of the Christmas season that they had hoped for but been deprived of. Some say that there is no sense fighting the circumstances that you cannot control, but the Poles had been victims of that kind of logic in the past. Give an inch and they will take a mile had become the new credo and there was only so much of the heavy hand that they would tolerate before deciding that enough was enough.

It had not been published and no one had organized or made any grand pronouncements, but between Gdansk and Gdynia the collective conscience had decided that certain points of the government lockdown orders had gone on long enough. The boutiques along the Monte Cassino thoroughfare from Sopot Station to Kuracyjny Square were open and loosening their own capacity restrictions as throngs of visitors flooded in from Tri-City eager not to lose this opportunity.

Storm fronts had begun moving along the south side of the Baltic Sea. Staring out from the coast at the pier of Molo w Sopocie, all one could see was a wall of dark grey as the wind and snow began beating down Poland’s northern coastline. Policemen patrolled the streets and the main square but refused to issue tickets having themselves grown weary of policing.

“Look!” Agnieszka exclaimed pointing to a group of pedestrians in the square. “They are not wearing masks, they are just using their scarves.”

Ewa scanned the square and pointed to some others, noting: “They are not even bothering with the scarves.”

“Should we?” Agnieszka asked Ewa who was already loosening the bands of her mask from around her ears.

“You are so beautiful!” Ewa exclaimed once Agnieszka had removed her own mask. “Stand over by the pier and let me take a picture.”

The pier had turned into an impromptu dog park as Akitas and terriers and spaniels darted around from one end to the other kicking up waves of snow with owners just as happy to make acquaintances. In the last year, folks had become accustomed not to look at others’ mouths for signs of happiness. Instead, the faintest impression of crow’s feet by the eyes had become instinctively more perceptible and people had begun to look deeper at each other for unconscious cues.

Large choppy waves on the sea lapped up on the shore exposing a clear line between the snow and the sand. The weather had fully moved in and was dumping snow over every corner of Sopot as each beachcomber on foot had to cut their own set of tracks across the beach until a cross-country skier would pass and create firm grooves in the snow to follow.  

Agnieszka and Ewa were halfway between Sopot and the pier at Gydni Orlowie by the time the snow accumulation had reached above the line of their boots. “This is insane!” Ewa cried out as fat flakes of blowing snow whipped her in the face as she and Agnieszka turned their backs to the northern wind for a reprieve. They looked at each other and laughed.

“You look like you’re wearing a white wig like one of those English barristers,” Ewa said giggling and barely able to get the words out. She took another picture and showed Agnieszka.

“You look the same,” Agnieszka said taking a picture of Ewa to show her as proof.

Families started snowball fights and built snowmen at every hundred metres. There was more than enough snow to go around. Wealthy families brought their horses out to strut along the beach while the bravest folks downed gulps of strong wodka before stripping down to their undies and heading out into the sea for a swim. Along the ridge by the Gydnia pier children had their toboggans out sliding down from the street toward the sea. Parents gathered together with their cups laughing and sharing wine.

It was a day whose weather alone would have otherwise kept people indoors, but considering the circumstances, the regular order of things no longer seemed to concern anyone. There is only so much plague one is willing to tolerate before they decide it would be better to at least go out with a smile.

Couples stood at the edge of Gydnia pier with arms outstretched and mouths filling with snow crying out, “I’m the king of the world!” Agnieszka and Ewa walked to the end of the pier to snap a selfie. Every visible inch of foreground and back was a crystal white shade of new-fallen snow. From top to bottom, every bit of their clothing was saturated with snow that clung to every fabric. Snow filled the ridges between the bark on the trees. It collected between eyelashes and the whiskers of every brow. Flakes of snow crawled up the windowsills of every home and nestled in the creases of backpacks and winter hats.

Tall trees hung over the path through Pólnocny Park creating a canopy and catching the snow in the branches overhead. The weather inside the tunnel was calm compared to the seaside but snow still found its way into every corner of the forest. A plow motored through to keep the path open and pedestrians packed the snow down even firmer with every step they took. Passing the beachfront terraces, Ewa and Agnieszka reminisced about nights out that they had spent there from a time seemingly so long past that to speak of it was reassurance that that world would not be forgotten. Acting carefree when the weight of the world was on their shoulders was the last place that they could go that the virus could not.

Neither Agnieszka nor Ewa had caught the virus but they knew of many who had suffered and some who had lost loved ones. They understood the consequences of becoming sick and of potentially passing that illness on, but it was an innovative form of torture to live with those consequences every minute of every day. It was too possible, too theoretical, and it did not have the same sobering impact as being hit in the head with a rock. All that they wished for was just some hours where everyone would agree to live with the consequences and that the misery brought on by the heavy hand of a sick society might ease.

Returning back to Kuracyjny Square, Agnieszka and Ewa bought espressos to sip on the way back to the train station.

“It’s stopped snowing,” Ewa remarked. 

“This feels good,” Agnieszka added bringing the cup close to her nose to feel its warmth. “This feels normal”.

“This is where we’re at I guess,” Ewa continued. “Where civil disobedience is what feels normal.”

Walking past St. George Church by the roundabout leading out of town, Agnieszka and Ewa began to understand the delusion as they never had before.

“People died for this,” Agnieszka whispered.

“People have murdered in its name,” Ewa added.

Staring back down Monte Cassino and seeing the hundreds that had come to enjoy the day outside no matter what the weather and no matter what the circumstances, Agnieszka and Ewa felt reassured that they were not alone. There were enough of them that understood each other and that the God they had no belief in rested for a day even if the government operated 24/7. To get it was not death, to give it was not murder – sometimes life is just messy and unfair, but there is always space to remain hopeful, to break the rules, and to celebrate having the freedom to do both at the same time.

The afternoon was waning as Agnieszka and Ewa ducked into the tunnel leading to the station. Observing the others in the station, the consensus was that, unlike on the beach, the mask mandate still applied here and the girls donned theirs again in preparation for the ride back to Wrzeszcz. A long-haired stranger stared at the ticketing kiosk for a long time. He looked around confused as bodies darted through the tunnel and up the stairs to the platform.

“Do you need help?” Agnieszka him in her native Polish.

“I don’t know which ticket I am supposed to choose,” the stranger explained in his own native English.

“Where do you want to go?” Agnieszka asked.

“I need to go to Gdansk city centre.”

Agnieszka scanned the touchscreen and chose the fare that the stranger would need. The printer of the ticketing machine screeched and dispensed a new ticket.

“Thank you so much!” the stranger exclaimed as the crow’s feet extended along the sides of his eyes. The snow that had collected in his long hair was melting and streaming down his cheeks making it look like he was crying. “I don’t speak any Polish and I couldn’t understand a single thing. Most of the other ticketing machines have an option in English.”

“It’s okay. Just remember, you need to ride the train for four stops and then you will be in Gdansk city-centre.”

The stranger walked on through the tunnel looking up at the departure screens and searching for the platform with the train that would take him to Gdansk. Agnieszka approached the ticketing machine and bought her ticket.

“I think he went to the wrong platform,” Ewa said pointing down the tunnel.

“He what?”

“That guy you were helping buy the ticket. Which ticket did he get?”

“Where did he go?” Agnieszka asked?

“Platform 5 I think.”

The two girls went running off down the tunnel and climbed the stairs to the platform and found the stranger.

“This is the wrong train,” Agnieszka told him. “Follow me.”

Out of breath, they arrived at the right platform just as the SKM train was arriving.

“Thank you so much again!” the stranger said as they boarded the train.

“Remember, four stops and then you get off the train.”

Agnieszka and Ewa took their seats. “I wonder where he might have ended up,” Ewa said.

“I worry that he might have gotten fined for having the wrong ticket,” Agnieszka added. “Did you think he was cute?”

“I don’t know. I guess, but who could tell?”

“I thought he had nice eyes.”

Neither Agnieszka nor Ewa had been with a man in months and they were now realizing just how long it had been. They sat grinning and chuckling behind their masks.

“God, this pandemic has made me so fucking horny!” Ewa said loud enough that a few folks sitting nearby giggled.

When the train arrived in Wrzeszcz, Agnieszka and Ewa descended the train. As they walked to the tunnel they heard a tapping noise coming from the train. They stopped and looked over and saw that it was the long-haired stranger tapping on the window. He waved and pulled down his mask and smiled at them. The train began to roll onward and out of the station as Ewa and Agnieszka lowered their own masks and smiled and waved goodbye to the long-haired stranger so that he could see their faces. To remove one’s mask anywhere in Poland was to defy the government’s orders, but it was also the way to be seen, to say thank you in any language, and to let someone know that they had nice eyes.