Sobering thoughts

Poles believe that vodka has magical properties. No celebration or ceremony is truly complete until it has been toasted with a shot of vodka. In these situations, the fact that there is alcohol in the vodka is irrelevant, it is the mystical nature of vodka itself that is important. Because vodka is magical and essential to Polish celebrations of birth, marriage and death, Poles will never believe that it was invented anywhere other than in Poland—it would be like believing that the Polish language was invented in Korea. Even Poles who never drink feel this. Russians feel the same, which is why the argument over the true origin of vodka will never be resolved, even after time travel is invented.

Vodka is also life giving. Older Poles, and many younger ones too, will prescribe vodka infused with herbs for everything from stomach ache to advanced leukaemia. I never understood the popularity of those tiny 25 ml bottles of vodka until I understood vodka as a medicine. When you put vodka in a small bottle, it looks and feels like medicine, and it also becomes acceptable to buy and consume it at any time. Nobody is ashamed to have a medicinal bottle of vodka on display, but many would be uncomfortable having a half-litre bottle visible in their house unless a celebration was imminent. It's not the quantity that's important, it's the package.

Many countries have an alcoholic drink that fulfils the same ceremonial and social role as vodka in Poland. The Scots have whiskey, the Japanese have saki and the English have beer. The Romans had wine, which is why the sacred beverage of the Roman Catholic mass is wine—not grape juice, but real wine with real alcohol. It is literally impossible to be a practicing Catholic and a teetotaller. Perhaps this is why alcohol has a moral dimension in Poland.

Poles see the consumption of alcohol as a moral question, even the ones who drink too much. The English attach no moral weight to alcohol. In England, drunkenness is seen as a health issue. In Poland, drunkenness is a moral failure. It’s interesting that Polish attitudes are much closer to American attitudes on this question than they are to the attitudes of Western Europeans. The Americans are almost as prudish about public drinking as they are about public sex.

One of the greatest cultural shocks I even experienced in Poland was during the last visit of John Paul II. The sale of alcohol was absolutely banned for the three days he was in the city. I was dumbfounded. I had no idea how the sale of alcohol could be connected to a visit by the Pope. I was also amazed that nobody else thought this was weird. That’s when I understood that drinking is a moral question for the Poles—if you can’t buy alcohol, you can’t get drunk and if nobody is drunk, the city is morally more pure and suitable to host the Holy Father. The current Pope is in England this week and alcohol will remain available, not because we are all compulsive drunks, but because the moral association would just never occur to the English. The English would also be outraged at being told they couldn’t do something, even if they had no intention of doing it. That fact that the Poles take this so lightly, despite their healthy contempt for authority, is something else that astonishes me.

I’ve also noticed that drink is seen as a male moral failing. The final words in any discussion among prospective mothers-in-law will always be: “but he drinks,” or “at least he doesn’t drink.” A man can be successful, handsome and good with children but if he drinks, he is fatally flawed. All Polish women believe that a man who drinks will eventually abandon his wife, beat his children and end his days slumped outside the local shops. Polish women are not expected to enjoy alcohol and, consequently, rarely do. The cultural difference struck me hard the other day when I noticed two English girls at the till in the supermarket. It wasn’t their language that gave them away, it was the contents of their basket: two bottles of beer each and a packet of condoms.