We arrived at our destination in the early afternoon (after 14 hours of driving). Hotel "Alpina." The reception was closed. But on a shelf there were envelopes with our names and keys to the rooms. A pleasant surprise. The next day, we visited the mayor of the HOBRO municipality. We were not the only guests. At the same time, a delegation from Latvia, from the city of Kraslava, was visiting Hobro. Kim Christiansen, in his welcome, assured us that he saw our countries as natural partners for cooperation with Denmark. We introduced ourselves to one another; the leaders delivered appropriate speeches (our delegation was headed by Dr Edmund Maliński). Nellija Livcane (née Wasilewska) spoke about the joy Latvia felt at the removal of the red stars from its national flag and about the difficulties of removing them from society's mentality. We would learn during a series of lectures in the following days that Denmark is an organized society in which the division of roles between institutions is precisely specified and defined. It was not time wasted.
The concept of the welfare state, which Denmark undoubtedly is, appears to us as a reality that has not been invented, something that functions like a well-constructed machine whose individual elements fit together, do not rust, and are constantly improved.
Is the mechanism called local democracy breaking down? The Danes carefully avoided the so-called other side of the coin, while we would not have been ourselves if we had not looked for "a hole in the whole thing." It must be added, however, that we did not notice many of these "holes." Although we all know that there are no ideal societies or universally correct solutions, we observed everything we were shown with admiration. And with envy.
I was looking for solutions that could be introduced in our country immediately. There are some. But that is a subject for another story. What was shown to representatives from Eastern Europe? Above all, a vast area of social activity, namely the organization of care for the weaker (children, the sick, and the unemployed). In Denmark, all care homes were closed (with the exception of those for the profoundly disabled), and people with disabilities were allowed to live in ordinary society—this is how they find their place in society (they are not isolated).
There, people take part in sports not for competition, but for pleasure and health, in various organized sports groups, from the age of two to 80 and beyond.
In Denmark, there is something called a leisure school, as well as various types of so-called alternative schools. For troubled children and young people, and for adults—the unemployed and those living alone.
Motivation—instruction—activity: this is the guiding idea of the organizers of leisure time. To older people they say: "come to us, be with us before time runs out, open a new path for yourself, get out of the house."
No one can do everything, but everyone can do something"—this is the motto of life schools, where education is organized during people’s free time.
In Denmark, there are youth political parties (which is unthinkable here). We met the leader of one of them in HOBRO. It turns out that members of this party (many below the voting age) have some influence on democracy. What advantages for young people? What goals?
-They teach young people how to fight for their ideals in the political game,
-they make them aware of what democracy is and that it must be defended (the "democracy watchdogs," as they were called, react fastest to unpopular political decisions),
-they learn civic virtues and responsibility.
And there is also the fact that no one there leads anyone by the hand. Too ideal? Unrealistic? I do not know. There were many teachers among us. But they were not the only ones interested in the Danish education system. And this is the area of Danish democracy that aroused the greatest admiration (perhaps even envy), but also doubts and disbelief.
Such scenes: a primary school, horizontal architecture, lots of greenery, conservatories, and outdoor walkways around the building.
In the classrooms—no wall displays or portraits, mostly pupils’ work. Boards of all kinds, screens, audiovisual equipment, cookers for preparing meals, and so on. It is better not to write about the teachers’ rooms—I have no intention of upsetting our teachers.
Such a comparison must lead to the conclusion that it is difficult to be a teacher in Poland. But also that the Polish school must be fought for. It can be better. There is also the phenomenon of parents being present in schools—they want to have a say in school matters. Grades? There simply are no grades in primary schools. Classroom observations? The Danes did not understand our questions. Teacher evaluation? There is no official one. It is understood, however, that one has to be good, better than others, to remain on the labor market. And that is the only criterion. I will not write about finances (that is, subsidies), structure, or management—although these are, after all, the most important matters.
In conclusion—both delegations, ours and the Latvian one, gained a great deal from this visit. If this were a serial novel, the following issues should appear in the next installments: the Latvians, the discussions held, the beauty of the country, the personal culture of the people we met there, and several other matters.
I will now move on to the less important account: here is a poem written for the farewell evening:
A simple counting rhyme, or a ballad not only about the town of Hobro.
Composed of two parts. Here it is:
Part I
By the fjords lies Hobro, a town not very large; everyone who drops in here may be enchanted for good.
-Here the little houses are so pretty (each with its little garden), and life is so orderly, like a little path laid out of stones.
-Here everyone knows everything about everyone, but what lies beyond the fence, they will tell no one.
-Here the roads are so smooth, and the shops are overflowing, as if some miracle happened in this town every day.
-Here there are small children and somewhat older ones, elderly ladies and elderly gentlemen, with so many offers and opportunities that may God grant them health. Perhaps when Hobro is behind us, we will ask the question—why, on the same planet, does life treat the Danes better.
And we will raise our little hands to heaven: "Lord," we will say, "we want it that way too." The Lord will answer from high in heaven:
"You have to work for a better life yourselves."
PART II
By the Baltic lies Latvija*, where Nellija** lives.
There are a hundred*** lakes and such nice people, oh my (!) there is a bird there called a "Yak"****, and they crossed the sea to Hobro in that "Yak" as if it were some kind of bird; they showed up, and who would have thought that under a Danish roof a Latvian would drink vodka with a Pole. And when they had had enough***** of lectures and national booze, they would end the day with humor in the style of Woody Allen. Just do not say it was
too much, because it was written by -eM De
Hobro, 5 October 1995
Notes:
Latvija—Latvia
Nellija—the head of the Latvian delegation
a hundred lakes—supposedly many more
"Yak": an airplane with 28
seats, in which the Latvians flew to Denmark—2.5 hours of fear
"national booze"—there was not really that much of it (it was mainly needed for the rhyme); the Latvians brought Melnais Balzams—Riga (the Black Death, but we survived)