If you had shown me this picture before coming to Poland, I would have guessed it was taken in the USA in a heartbeat, with overconfidently certainty. But it’s not, it’s one of the many unique traditions that Poland has – Studniówka.
One of the many things that makes this country so special is the seamless mix between old and new, tradition and innovation, past and future. While the sea of colourful dresses – alike snowflakes, not repeated even once – flooded the dancefloor, the music jumped from traditional almost folkloric songs to rap songs showcasing today’s Polish music scene. The song I had been constantly hearing, since I came to this school, as a faraway echo from the gym finally turned into a simple, yet wonderful almost magical, display of a traditional dance, la polonaise. Spontaneously, accompanied by the best dance partner I could have asked for – the Spanish teacher. I joined in the tradition and felt part of it without question.
During my five years studying sociology, it was prevalent how needed a society that integrated different types of people sharing moments like these. The mix of music acted as a mirror for the mix of people, all ages, students and teachers alike moving as if they were one single organism. This type of intergenerational party where everyone felt included and mixed and mingled all through the night is something a myriad of communities strive for but can’t seem to find the exact formula for it.
When seeing this closeness between students and teachers, this love and this premature goodbye for their graduating peers, I tried to imagine if this would have been possible in my own high school back in Madrid. The answer is probably not. The hierarchy that reigned as the supreme belief during my own academic experience, until I reached college, was a big obstacle in even dreaming of this possibility. The love for learning was showcased in the love the students professed for their teachers in this special night. This type of education that creates connection and bonds the learner and the educator, echoed of an approach long lost almost Ancient Greek-like in which the mentorship meant something more than just a hierarchical and bureaucratic position. The success of this school is not measured by the grades, the non-stop events or the multiple inviting rooms that the facilities offer but in the relationships. A student feeding cake to the director is a pretty honest proof of an unforgettable high school experience and an amazing group of teachers, directors and secretaries.
Studniowka offers a rather good alternative to the All American version of prom – obnoxious display of fakeness and competition of the best dressed. In this case, there is no prom queen or king but rather the representatives of the student council. Much more democratic, and much more genuine than the overplayed prom I have seen millions of times on movies and TV shows. No matter the layers of makeup, in a country famously known for the lack of smiles such as Poland, all smiles seemed genuine and the heart was present all throughout the night. Even if the event was over the top at times, every part of it was heart-warming and every gesture seemed an honest display of affection and appreciation for the school which was their home for some years.
Being 24, which may seem young for everyone – but the students here think of me as old already, life gets usually gets a bit harder after high school. Even if you manage to discover new tools and your maturity helps overcome these bigger struggles, a night like this to say goodbye to the teenager years makes the transition much easier. In Spain, we usually have our farewell to puberty party after we finish the big exams to access university. Quite opposite to the glam showcased in Studniowka, we celebrate by drinking in a park and usually these public green spaces end up trashed and flooded with plastic bottles of sangria. Despite my harsh criticism of the USA’s characteristic prom, as a kid I had always dreamed of living the American fantasy. My high school differed a lot to what I had been watching in Hannah Montana or High School Musical. No matter the disappointment that came from this, as any other Spanish student, we managed to find some dreamlike consolation during both our high school graduations.
The dresses were one of the main aspects that amazed me. As a dedicated follower of fashion with a weak spot for dressed, it was amazing seeing all the girls live out their dream to be a princess for a night. As Anastasia, one of my favourite princess movies growing up, stated;I guess every lonely girl would hope she’s a princess. Despite the many (and most of them deserved) criticisms of the phenotype of the princess in fiction, which is usually tied to the damsel in distress stereotype, I find there’s even a sort of power coming from being a princess even if just for the night.
In a society where girls are constantly being told to not take up space, to not be seen on their own terms, these attention-attracting dresses are almost an assertive stance. Of course, there is a fine line between choosing, and sometimes even stressing, over your makeup, shoes and dresses for your own eyes or for others. As Margaret Artwood puts it; You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur. I choose to be optimistic about it and see the power within the princess that has long been disregarded as nothing more than a harmful trope. As a usual wearer of long and big skirts and dresses, sometimes I find it’s the equivalent of manspreading, these beautiful and colourful clothes screaming; Yes, I am here. Like the original Cinderella, the stepsisters bled when the crystal heels did not fit, therefore I think it is always a question of finding fitting shoes, dresses and makeup that showcase your personality rather than hide it. Apart of my ode for dresses, the clothes also represent one of the things in common with the US prom – the expenses.
As the evening turned into night and night faded almost into morning and all the Cinderellas ditched their high heels so they could continue dancing till their feet gave out, surprises never ceased. My fascination with this event, never heard of back in Spain, surprised Kasia, my dance partner and amazing teacher. She was telling me how when she spent her Christmas break in Spain, talked to her Spanish friends about our traditions (like the Three Wise Men parade or our New Years’ lucky grapes) and realized that she did not know what traditions to mention of Poland. Culture, in this sense, feels like this exchange that navigates between a joke, a cute story and a philosophical stance that I once saw referenced in the movie Soul (Pixar, 2020);
I heard this story about a fish.
He swims up to an older fish and says, “I’m trying to find this thing they call ‘the ocean.’”
“The ocean? the older fish says, “That’s what you’re in right now.”
“This?” says the young fish. “This is water. What I want is the ocean!”
This story, originally inspired by the Anthony de Mello’s book, The Song of Bird, which was meant as a religious teaching about how God is invisible because he’s everywhere, has been reinterpreted through many different approximations. David Foster Wallace, one of my favourite authors, offered his own version of the story;
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?”
And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?’’
This served as his opening speech at a university graduation, which circles back to the rites of passage associated to education, so it seems fitting to quote in this article. The famed and complex American writer explained it as such; “The point of the fish story is merely that the most obvious, important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about.” In this sense, reinterpreting this story for university makes a lot of sense since graduations, like Studniowka, signify a new step in life. For me, university meant a new pair of glasses to see the world through.
Cultural exchange, like university or the fish story, is a new perspective on things. The same way you can’t see the ocean whilst you’re swimming in it or the trees might blind your sight of the forest, your own culture may blind you from its own unique traditions. Our cultures are our habitats, much like the forest or the ocean, since we are so used to living in it, we can’t really see it for what it is – the good as much as the bad. Going out from culture many times means seeing it more clearly. Many Spanish customs I did not see as special, from the outside look new and shiny. Sometimes, the extra in extraordinary regarding cultures is coming from an international perspective, an outsider looking (or living) in.
Many things like the way the ł (Polish cultural equivalent to our very special ñ) is handwritten in lower case, which looks weirdly similar to a t, or the fact that bałwan mean snowman but also dumb, are things I could hardly learn on a book – but by living in Poland and spending time with its lovely people. Other facts I like are how almost every name has a shortened cuter version (though some are ironically longer like Jan into Janek) or all the traditions that I saw on the 11th of November. Another characteristic of Poland is how, even in a bigger-ish city like Krakow, you can leave your phone or bag unattended it probably won’t get stolen. So cheers to that to Poland but be careful in Spain (especially Barcelona).
Falling in love with a country is much like falling in love with a person, all the imperfections and flaws are also part of why you love them. The more details you can pinpoint, the more accurate of a puzzle you can build of your beloved. Like lovely Céline said in one of my favourite movies;
„I think I can really fall in love when I know everything about someone. The way he’s gonna part his hair, which shirt he’s gonna wear that day, knowing the exact story he’d tell in a given situation. I’m sure that’s when I know I’m really in love.”
To end this article initially about Studniowka that turned into a discussion about culture and finally a sort of love letter of Poland, I would like to share my favourite pictures from the night;
