Polish Language Blog

How’s your Christmas shopping coming along? I haven’t even started mine, to be honest. And if someone asks me why, I’m going to tell them that I’m turning Greek orthodox this year. Speaking of which, these guys have it so easy – everything is on sale for THEIR xmas. Not fair, so not fair…

And everybody asks me what I want to get “pod choinkę” or “na Gwiazdkę” or “na Święta.” Well, let’s see… I want an orange 350Z, and a new MacBookPro, and a live-in maid, but I’d settle for a Sony Alpha 700. And oh yeah, world peace and all that.

But let’s back up for a sec.

• choinka (fem., pl. choinki) – Christmas tree.

So “pod choinkę” means “under the Christmas tree.”

Święta Bożego Narodzenia (though, normally “Bożego Narodzenia” is implied and understood) – Christmas.

Or you can simply say “Boże Narodzenie” which literally means something like “God’s Birth.”

And now, “Gwiazdka,” hmmm… Remember when in the post about Święty Mikołaj I mentioned this other guy – Gwiazdor. His name comes from the word “Gwiazdka.” And that literally means “little star” from the legend that a star appeared in the sky when baby Jesus was born.

So, if someone asks you “Co chcesz na Gwiazdkę?” or more politely “Co chciałabyś (or chciałbyś if you’re asking a guy) dostać na Gwiazdkę?” they’re simply asking you what you want (or would like) to get for Christmas.

And finally:

• zakupy świąteczne – Christmas shopping
• prezenty świąteczne – Christmas presents

Now I’m off to the kitchen trying to figure out how to help my friend with her traditional Wigilia dinner. Twelve different dishes, hay under the table, opłatek (Christmas wafer), the whole nice yards. And between the two of us, we don’t even know how to make barszcz czerwony (red borscht).

This shall be interesting…

Wesołych Świąt!!!

PS. Image: Wikipedia

Basia’s comment about the whole przyjaciółka/koleżanka/relationship thing made me think. And she’s right, it IS a very nuanced thing, indeed.

In English I refer to approximately 1395 people as my “friends.” Yet, when talking to a Pole, about 1390 of those people are not “friends” (przyjaciółki) but “koleżanki/koledzy” or “znajome/znajomi” or “kumpelki/kumple” and so on. People that I could call “przyjaciółki/przyjaciele” (friends) in Polish are maybe 5 on a good day.

It’s been my impression that “przyjaźń” (friendship) is taken very seriously among Polish people. Friendship is not a word used lightly. To say that someone is your friend means you’ve probably known him since kindergarten and you’d give your last złoty for him, if needed.

Everybody else that you know who does not fit into that category is called either a “kolega” or “koleżanka.” This is a problematic word, because depending on who you’re talking about, it can be translated into English as either “friend” or “colleague.” Or even “mate,” “pal,” or if you know each other from school – “classmate.”
Basically, it’s the same as “friend” but you’ve met them later on in life and you’d rather keep your last złoty than use it to bail your “kolega” out of trouble.

And then you have “znajomy.” As a noun, it technically means “acquaintance” but it can come in all sorts of flavors, from a “kolega” with whom you lost touch to your favorite hairdresser. It’s a very broad word to describe all sorts of people who might not be close enough to be “koledzy” or “koleżanki.” But what I’ve also noticed is that older people sometimes feel silly to use “koledzy” or “koleżanki” when talking about people they know and prefer to refer to them as “znajomi.” It really depends. For example, a man wouldn’t be caught dead saying that a female co-worker is a “koleżanka z pracy” (a colleague from work.) He is more likely to say that she is a “znajoma z pracy.”

So, where does a “kumpel” fit into all this? Sideways and from both ends, I guess. Anybody can be a “kumpel.” In everyday parlance it can be used to describe anyone from a BFF to someone you occasionally see at dog shows. Technically speaking, it’s translated as “pal,” “buddy,” “mate” and other sorts of goofy words. And needless to say, that this being Polish means there is a female version too – “kumpela” or “kumpelka.”

It all looks and feels very intricate, but after a while you can easily determine to which category your friends belong.

Next time we’ll talk about relationships.
And here’s the grammar/vocabulary stuff: (I’ll add sound when I have a minute.)

• przyjaźń (fem., pl. przyjaźnie) – friendship
• przyjaciel (masc., pl. przyjaciele) – friend (male, or mixed when plural)
• przyjaciółka (fem., pl. przyjaciółki) – friend (female)

• kolega (masc., pl. koledzy) – colleague or some kind of friend, male or mixed when plural
• koleżanka (fem., pl. koleżanki) – colleague or some kind of friend, female

• znajomy (masc., pl. znajomi) – somebody you know, acquaintance, male or mixed when plural. To make it more difficult this word can also be used as an adjective, as in “znajomy mechanik” – a mechanic I know.
• znajoma (fem., pl. znajome) – as above but female, and yes, it can also be used as an adjective, as in “znajoma fryzjerka” – a hairdresser (female) I know.

• kumpel (masc., pl. kumple) – colloquially, anybody from a friend to somebody you know and hang out with from time to time, male or mixed when plural.
• kumela or kumpelka (fem., pl. kumpele or kumpelki) – as above but female.

This post is not a rant, even though it may sound like one. I am simply attempting to explain the issue in a slightly irritated manner. Because I am slightly irritated right now. Numbers always do that to me.

Yes, we’ll talk about numbers today. Numbers of the official kind. In most civilized countries, and in a few uncivilized ones too, or at least in those countries I’m familiar with, the governments make do with only one number. Some call it a social security number, some – a personal number, ID number, or what not. You know what it is and how to use it. And you use it for many different things, from getting a cell phone contract to paying your taxes. Simple, easy and efficient. One number to rule them all.

I quite like this system. Being the kind of person who has a hard time remembering her own birth date, I am more than happy with just one number to deal with. At least one number per country. Any more than that and I run into trouble.

Well, things are not so simple, easy and efficient in Poland. First, there is PESEL. PESEL stands for “Powszechny Elektroniczny System Ewidencji Ludności” which is basically a very fancy name for a personal ID number. Every Pole has one. Most Poles born after 1975, even if born abroad, have PESELs. No PESEL, no other documents. You need it for getting an ID card, or a driver’s license, or a passport. You need it for pretty much everything, everywhere. You get this number automatically, and boom, there it is. It consists of your date of birth – year (two digits), month and day plus five additional numbers. One of them signifies your sex, and I’m pretty sure that others also have some secret meaning.

And then there’s NIP. The bane of my existence. Numer Identyfikacji Podatkowej, which is a boring Polish name for a tax ID number. And as the name indicates, you use it for paying your taxes.

Getting one is the hard part. Normally, your employer must apply for it for you when you get a job. But what to do when you don’t have a permanent job? When you work as a freelancer, who doesn’t have a sole proprietorship or any other type of company? I cringe at the very thought. I’ve heard of stories that people were simply able to fill out the appropriate application form, went to the Tax Office (Urząd Skarbowy) and sorted themselves a NIP without any problems. But those are almost urban legends. I’ve never met a person who actually managed to accomplish this feat, it was always a friend of a friend’s cousin’s next door neighbor who did it.

I had a lot less luck when dealing with the Tax Office. The sour-faced lady at Pierwszy Urząd Skarbowy in Gdansk took one look at my application and said “no” without any further explanations. When asked “why” she pointed with her pen to window number 2.

The sour-faced lady at window number 2 took one look at my application and said “no employer information, no NIP.” When asked about freelancers, she said “not my problem. No employer details, no NIP” with that special tone of voice that meant “are you dumb or something?”

I asked her to explain it to me once again using simple words of no more than 2 syllables. And the story went like this:

If you are a freelancer, you still need your “employer” to fill out and stamp the form in order to be issued a NIP.

When I pointed out that this arrangement sort of defies the idea of working freelance, the sour-faced lady kindly answered, “so get a normal job and don’t bother me. Next!”

Luckily, I know someone who has a company and was willing to support my NIP application by acting as my employer. But all this leads me to believe that since Poland makes it so difficult to get a tax ID number, the government is not really interested in collecting those taxes. A very curious country indeed.

So what happened next? Instead of issuing me a NIP, the Tax Office lost my application. Arrgh!