beckity

The church was full, and not just Polish-church full but Polish-church-on-an-important-day-like-Palm-Sunday full. Every seat of the cavernous church was taken and crowds had filled every available space beside the pews and in the little alcoves to the side. We found a space to stand in, and I settled in for the long haul. As the mass proceeded, I tuned out the priest's monotone and looked around me at the families and kids holding tightly to their brightly coloured palms. I'm always amazed by the ability of Poles to recreate Poland in Brussels. Someone's doing a good trade in palemki at any rate. I'm reading the God Delusion at the moment, and have always been a bit on the fence when it comes to the God stuff, but Polish religion has always struck me as such a fundamental part of the nationality, the culture, that philosphical debates about the imponderables of religion tend to seem irrelevant. I have a soft spot for the music and a problem with the intolerance but th

As we neared the shop door, I noticed the woman coming towards us, leaning heavily on her crutch as she approached. I pushed open the door and she spoke: 'I was here first, you sped up, just because I can't walk fast...' my jaw dropped and I held the door open for her. 'Just joking!' she laughed, 'it was just a joke. Your face was a picture.' I smiled, bemused. I moved into the shop and waited for Marek to choose his beer. 'You believe everything everyone says?' she asked, from across the shop floor. But before I had a chance to answer, she pose her next question. 'What star sign are you?' 'Scorpio' I answered, an eyebrow raised, fascinated by this strange woman. She fixed her eye on me. 'Now that's surprising. I wouldn't have guessed that.' 'Really?' I smiled. 'Maybe you were just not expecting a joke. Maybe your mind was elsewhere.' I moved towards Marek and asked if he was almost done. 'Aha!'