“Against the Current” by Agnieszka Graff

Polish Cosmopolitan, May 2000, 30. A monologue by Matka Polka as transmitted to Agnieszka Graff.

Matka Polka. There could be no shade of doubt. It was Her. Powerful, dignified, and at the same time warm and familiar. And only a little grotesque in her large blue apron. She emerged as if from under the ground at International Women’s Day demonstration on March 8th in Warsaw’s Stare Miasto. With her came the smell of mothballs, gunpowder and pierogi with cheese.

-Welcome! We’re glad you could come here.

-Sure I could come. I left pierogi on the kitchen counter and came running to be here. I even plastered posters all over the city—“I’VE HAD ENOUGH”—with the signature of Matka Polka. 

-You’ve had enough? Why? And how did that come to be?

-It started awfully long ago, darling. The 18th or 19th century, I can hardly remember it. Well, I was helping her. I bore sons and I sent them off to fight. When one was dead, another went. If he was killed too, I would send the third one to take revenge, and so it went. I could hardly keep pace.

-But it’s a beautiful role. Honorable. 

-Maybe it’s honorable, but what about all those sons I gave birth to? What about all the worries I had? Everybody thinks that I find pleasure in all this suffering and sacrifice. And I’ve just HAD ENOUGH! Later, my child, there were the uprisings. Again, for every uprising I had to supply sons. One would tear bed linen for bandages. One would go to Siberia. One would enlighten the people. One would manage the estate. And if there was such need, one would go to the barricades, too. Various things happened.

-And how do you like the newest history, oh dear Mother?

-To this second war, dear girl, I sent not only sons, but daughters as well. They were nurses. They ran in the canals. I fought a little myself too. But when they finally erected the Warsaw Uprising monument, they forgot about me. What they put there was this poor creature with a baby, and the brave fighter shielding her with his manly arm. But I’m not on the monument. So where’s justice?

-And what happened after the war?

-Don’t you remember, baby? Are you that young? One would build socialism. One would drive the tractor. I rather enjoyed that, actually. But later there were mainly queues. On March 8th one would be given a coupon for pantyhouse and a tulip, you know, to show that a woman is a human being too, and a supporter of the socialist motherland at that. They have even founded a hospital-monument for me. What were all those monuments for? I will never forget all the times I spent queuing, cooking, doing laundry, ironing, giving birth! And then there was the underground. One would print and distribute samizdat papers, one would throw leaflets. And when the fellows went to prison, me and my girlfriends would build the underground ourselves. And now they say, one and another, that they were fighting and the lovely ladies served them tea. History likes to repeat itself.

-Well, but now you should be happy, dear Mother. We have pro-family policy, they speak very well about you up there….

-I wouldn’t curse my worst enemy with such friends! They will do me in with all this care and respect. My nerves won’t take it. They are closing down kindergartens and creches! They stopped financing contraceptives! There were going to be those hostels built for women who are troubled by their fellows, there was even money from the West. And now they tell us we don’t need them. I sent my children to school, to learn something useful, and they tell them rubbish about harmful condoms. And all this allegedly for my own good! This is too much, I’ve had enough!

-But in Parliament the lawmakers keep saying that the role of Matka Polka is very special.

-If they like this role so much, let them take it. I don’t want it any more. For that matter, now I’m going to look after myself. But first I’ll go and finish my pierogi!

And she disappeared. There was no time to say good-bye. Only for a moment one could still smell mothballs, pierogi and gunpowder in the air.