Speechless, all of a sudden

Stand-up comedy is still a niche type of entertainment in Poland. Polish audience, used to low-brow cabaret programmes shot repeatedly on TV, would probably find it as a challenge to embrace as demanding performance as stand-up is. Despite this, stand-up turns out to thrive in Poland, although you should not expect to watch it on TV or hear about it in commercial radio. Fans of this comic style will nonetheless find it easy and inexpensive to buy tickets for live performances of stand-up comedians…

I have learnt it all since for some reason I did a research on stand-up in Poland. While doing this self-assigned task, I also decided to find out who the most prominent stand-up comedians in Poland are…

Uncle Google always helps in such instances and the search engine did the job without reproach. Only my jaw dropped open at the sight of outcomes. I kept opening each next search result and my mouth refused to shut…

Recall the Short story about the price of trust? I have totally put the hapless loan out of my mind and with hindsight had to read over all my postings labelled lent 1,000 to refresh my memories of how I had been duped by my middle-school classmate. Karol, as it turns out, is one of the up-and-coming stand-up comedians in Poland. Back when we were in our teens he exhibited inclination and talent for stage career. His first performances available on youtube are from 2011 when he would show off his skills during open mic sessions. At that time, according to blog records (keeping some stuff for posterity now pays off) he underwent gambling rehab therapy and did his sentence for unpaid debts. As the (alleged?) sentence was suspended and partly swapped for public works, one does not conflict with the other. Internet contains some evidence of his 2012 performances, but his stand-up career began to speed up in 2014. These days probably everyone familiar with stand-up in Poland knows his (real) name. He is not one of most famous comics, however critics and more experienced fellow stand-up comedians claim he is one the most promising young artists, has his unique, individual style and huge potential to grow into an outstanding stand-up comedian. Nothing more about, since I still do not want to reveal his identity.

The reading also reminded me Karol had borrowed money, much more money, from our fellow classmate, Marek. Without further ado I logged on to fejsbuk to find Marek is online and I started off a chat. Marek’s jaw probably also dropped open at the news of our ex-friend being a rising star of stand-up comedy. Sadly, Marek did not recover full 8,000 PLN he had lent. Having been paid off 6,000 PLN and having wrangled too much to get back the remainder (it would require taking the case to the court, as some of Karol’s creditors did), he had given it a rest. Interestingly, Marek knew a bit more about Karol’s tribulations than I did. Up to that moment, I had only been stunned, from that moment I was incensed. I could get over he had deceived me and many of his other former friends, but I cannot get over Karol turning his back on his family who got financially and emotionally ruined getting him out of troubles several times, despite this being none of my businesses, I feel damn sorry for Karol’s parents and brother.

I do not wish badly on anyone, including Karol. As Marek rightly said, maybe it is better he pursues his career as comedian than if he was to engage in massive scams as a lawyer (he had been expelled from the Faculty of Law for embezzlement of money from the student union’s account). But if once he rises to stardom and I happen to see him on TV, I will look at him with disdain and contempt. A man of honour might stumble and fall, but once a man of honour mends his ways, he makes up for the wrong he did. Karol, as the Internet shows, has got up of his knees, but does not think about apologising to his primary-school friends, middle-school friends, high-school friends and university friends (all of whom he still owes money). He will remain in their bad books so maybe his efforts to fix once broken friendships should be spared. Yet, first and foremost he should beg his family for forgiveness. Based on what I know, he has cut off, they renounced him and therefore even if for many he will be a celebrity, for me he will remain a liar and a thief.

Growing mature?

At the Soulmate’s insistence, I finally re-watched “A beautiful mind”, the magnificent film I once had seen when it went to silver screen and I had been fourteen then. I only remembered I had been under the spell of the drama; nothing more. The second viewing, dozen of years after the first one, had all features of the first viewing. For the first hour of watching, I was promising myself to look up whether John Nash’s mathematical genius was indeed exploited U.S. Army agencies in the first years of cold war. Subsequent scenes passed by until I finally realised most of the plot I had witnessed were just John Nash’s delusions or a blend of reality and figments of the great mathematician’s imagination. Then ensued the gruesome depiction of him, fighting the illness.

The film is neither a faithful biography of Mr Nash, nor does it focus on his contribution to theory of economics. The big-screen interpretation of his biography leaves out some facts from his life (my point of reference is the wikipedia entry) and distorts others. It totally omits the story of having an illegitimate child before getting married, the divorce to his wife, as well as the fact they were not married in 1994 when he was receiving the Noble prize. The selective references to his academic achievements seem actually in place, given most of the audience have basic notion of game theory, economics and abstract aspects of mathematics and would actually get bored if the film dwelled on academic concepts.

The plot actually revolves around the theme of a hell a person suffering from paranoid schizophrenia goes through. I have no idea how much trouble the crew shooting the film had taken to explore perception of the world by a person afflicted by that mental illness, so I would not dare to assess the accuracy with which the delusion Mr Nash could have had, were presented. Probably even extensive studies on schizophrenia-affected mind and hours spent talking with psychiatrists specialising in the topic would just allow to produce a substitute, simplified picture of what actually goes on in ill person’s head.

The moment a viewer realises the events they have followed for the half of the film were just a delusion, comes as a shock. The scenes witnessed in the second half of the film emanate with torment afflicting a mentally-ill outstanding academic.

I wonder why has someone come up with this very and no other title of the film. What was so ‘beautiful’ in Mr Nash’s mind? The film might not depict truthfully the mathematician’s disposure, attitude towards the world and relationships with people and I should make allowances for it. But the picture of his personality which emerges from the film shows an outstanding academic whose grasp of complex mathematics and ability to describe interactions in the world using algorithms and equations are totally outshined by absolute lack of social competencies and conviction of his own superiority. According to the article dated 2002, when the film was nominated to Oscar Award, the film deftly passes over dark sides of Mr Nash’s biography, as in the reality his conduct was at best shameful. As the author points out, at the time of releasing Mr Nash was still alive and could sue film-makers for putting him in bad light, therefore they have filtered out all “sludge” (a perfect equivalent of Polish omnipresent word SYF) and have put out a rose-coloured, though poignant picture of a man trying to overcome the mental disease. In fact, Mr Nash was an exceptionally gifted, but full of himself mathematician, those talents were offset by social deficiencies. No mind over matter here for me and no sympathy for the devil.

Despite his ‘lousy character’, John Nash will go down in history as a Noble prize winner who has made considerable contribution into game theory. It has to be noted his exceptional intellect made him prone to mental illness which almost knocked down his career.

Recall the story of my classmate who once begged me to lend him money (I have not recovered until today)? Karol was also remarkably clever, therefore my first guess on why he had wheedled out thousands of zlotys from his friends was schizophrenia. Only later his mother told me he had fallen into compulsive gambling. But my general observation was spot-on – even his therapists confirmed due to his wits, curing his addiction was more complicated. I last called his mother in December 2012, she was very reluctant to talk me and only let me know he was still doing his time for unpaid debts. Watching “A beautiful mind” reminded me of his calamity. I wonder what and how he is doing…

Mother Nature when she endows people with competencies usually strives to be even-handed when giving out talents. Those generously bestowed with some skills lack other. The other story is that intelligence and emotional intelligence often do not pair up. A few weeks ago I was invited to participate in a meeting on talent development in my company during which someone asked a question, whether there can be any drawbacks of retaining most clever employees. Without second thoughts I responded: “A not really clever employee will do their job according to the rules and will not take the trouble to think how to circumvent them. A quite clever employee might be shrewd enough to come up with a way how to circumvent the rules, but if internal control systems are efficient enough, they will be caught. An outstandingly clever employee will not only circumvent the rules, but will also dupe the internal control system. Thus their misconduct might unnoticed and results might grow big until they blow up the whole company.” My not really well-thought-out (in the context of the meeting and its participants) was maybe politically incorrect, but I believe was actually spot-on. The more intelligent you are, the more dangerous you are. The history has proven this dependency right.

Drifting back from another digression to the pivot of this post, I posit one should sometimes grow up to fully grasp content one is exposed to it. This spans from understanding purports of books, films or dramas to taking part in religious celebrations. My reception of “A beautiful mind” differs from impressions the film made on me in 2002. The same happened recently when I read George Orwell’s 1984 for the second time, while the first time was in 2006.

Recently I repeatedly asked myself a question whether familiarising young people with some stuff should not be deferred. Two months ago I went to a theatre to see an enjoyable, hilarious, play. Most of the audience were teenagers (aged approximately 16 who came as organised school group) who most of the time would burst out laughing, giggle, whistle or shout something towards actors. Oddly enough, shortly thereafter I read a letter from a reader of Gazeta Wyborcza, who experienced even more scandalously behaving youngsters in another theatre. I am of the opinion sensitivity to high art should be instilled into young people before it is too late, especially because not everyone’s parents care about this aspect of child’s development, but should such occurrences be the price to be paid?

It won’t cease soon

Some people say if you don’t have a profile on facebook or another social networking website, you simply don’t exist. I’m not in favour of this theory, but there is a grain of truth in it. Over the week when I was offline, my high-school classmates organised a Christmas meet-up and notified me via facebook. I learnt about the gathering the day after it was held. I wouldn’t have turned up anyway, as it was held at the same time as Christmas party of my company, but no one considered any other way of getting in touch with me…

The other thing I spotted on facebook last Saturday after logging in was a message from my middle-school classmate. Let’s name him Marek (name deliberately changed, again, I’m sure he at least once visited my blog and is aware of its existence). He asked me to give him my phone number and tell when he could call me, implying the sooner the better. I’m generally sensitised to all requests when I feel I can lend somebody a helping hand and felt a bit guilty, as his message was dated 14 December and I read it three days later. I went for a walk, grabbed my mobile and dialled his number (how come I had his number, he didn’t have mine?).

Marek was more than happy to hear my voice in the receiver. Without even exchanging pleasantries, he cut to the chase and asked if I had lent any money to our classmate, Karol. He left me a bit speechless for a moment, but instead of telling him I had done this mistake, my reply was: “has your money also gone down the drain?” (też utopiłeś pieniądze?).

Marek and I have known each other since we were six. He lived with his mother and sister in a neighbouring block of flats in Piaseczno, we went to the same group in the nursery school and then attended the same class and primary and middle school. We even chose the same high school, I surmise his choice was a bit influenced by mine. Marek’s life has always been uphill. He grew up without father and most of time without any financial aid from him. He has never been really talented (truth be told, even if it’s bitter), but as long as he could, he has made up for his by hard work and consistency. He has always aimed high and never liked to give up on his plans.

Despite financial hardship, Marek managed to put aside some money. In August 2010 he lent a large chunk of it, i.e. 8,000 PLN to our ex-friend, Karol. Unlike me, he secured his interests by signing a loan agreement with the hapless debtor. Until now Karol and his mother have paid him back 5,000 PLN, while 3,000 PLN remains outstanding and odds of getting it back are dwindling. As it turns out, precedence of creditors depends on their capacity to claim their money back. My loan to Karol was backed by gentleman’s agreement; Karol’s mother claims she respects it, yet when others threaten to take steps to recover their money, it’s not hard to guess who’ll be paid off first. Marek is not even better-off, just because his recovery ratio is 62.5%, while mine is 0%. For me 1,000 PLN is not a big sum, compared to my savings and earnings, for Marek 3,000 is much, much more and currently he desperately needs that money.

[insertion: it just occurred to me I could help Marek out and lend him 3,000 PLN, but I won’t…]

With the legally binding obligation to return the money, Marek is going to take the case to the court. Some law students who provide other students with legal advice free of charge have helped him write a claim and in the new year he intends to file a lawsuit against Karol. The case was if I would testify. Without much hesitation I agreed to appear before court. After all I’ll be telling the truth, but maybe I’ll help the guy who’s had it uphill all his life and doesn’t deserve to lose much of his savings. Testifying will not fray my nerves, as I’ve got over the lost money long ago and I won’t forget the story of a guy who used to my good friend, who was an up-and-coming talent and who squandered all opportunities life had offered to him, anyway.

On 9 December I sent to Karol’s family a Christmas card. I packed in an envelope and didn’t sign sender’s name at the back of it, just to give it a chance of not landing in a rubbish bin before being opened.

Just after finished the call with Marek I rang Karol’s mother, immensely curious to find out how the family are doing. What I heard from her has not impressed nor touched me, actually nothing I would hear about Karol would surprise me. Apart from what I listened about misery of Karol’s father who had undergone a surgery and Karol’s senile grandparents (all their ailments are somehow related to Karol having fallen into troubles), I have been informed that Karol is doing a sentence for unpaid debts and since his mother and I last talked, he tried to take away his life three times and is determined to try it again.

The shock came after hanging up. It sank in to me that this woman was at the end of her tether. She’s so tired of what she’s gone through that she doesn’t even appear to be moved by the fact his son wanted to commit suicide it even seems she has already come to terms with the inexorable eventuality of Karol’s suicidal departure.

Maybe the story is not apposite for the Christmas tide, but this the time, when apart from rejoicing, we should think about fellow people’s misery. Remember Band Aid’s “Do they know it’s Christmas”, peaked with Bono’s verse “Well tonight thank God it’s them, instead of you”? Cherish what you have, if you can read this post, I bet most people have it worse than you and your problems are laughably small, compared to theirs.

All Saints' Day

Year by year, I dare to claim the first day of November is called ‘All Saints’ Day’ because it takes patience of a Saint to survive it. Having spent almost 24 years in this world I still can’t grasp the concept of rounding up all people on cemeteries around one day. Maybe the incongruity is no bigger than distributing visits over the whole year, but these visits result in throng, throng and once again throng. Jammed roads near cemeteries, crowds of people walking from one grave to another, hundreds of candle- and flower-sellers putting up their stalls outside cemeteries, drivers struggling to park their vehicles – these are main types of entertainment on that lovely day.

Visits to cemeteries make an opportunity to ponder upon the place of death in contemporary culture. Remembrance is being pushed aside – just take a look – everyone suddenly remembers about the departed around 1 November and as soon as they come back from cemeteries, they forget, until the next year. Just a week ago when my mother and I drove to Piaseczno to tidy up my grandparents’ grave, they were hardly any cars outside cemetery gate. Today cars were parked everywhere, within the distance of one kilometre from the cemetery. Oddly enough, traffic away from cemeteries is quite sparse, but beware…

Long weekend around All Saints’ Day is a time when too many people depart this world. From Saturday until today’s afternoon death toll has hit 47, 476 people were injured in traffic accidents. This weekend will go down as one of the most tragic of all. Everyone says weather is to blame. In most parts of Poland the day is warm, visibility is reasonably good, it doesn’t rain nor snow, so drivers tend to put their foot down. The higher the speed, the more tragic accidents are. When the weather gets bad, drivers slow down, there are more prangs, but far fewer people die or are injured. Today I saw one smash-up, typical rear-ending, quite hard to understand for me, but from what I’ve observed over the past weekend, drivers’ behaviour this year is even up to the mark, the biggest dangers are posed by reckless pedestrians. Such thoughtlessness, recklessness and inattention have I never seen. Walking in the middle of a road, trespassing onto the road just in front of an oncoming car, swerving, standing on a road and staring at God knows what, staggering. No wonder pedestrians account for about 50% of this weekend’s fatalities. If my observations are right, in many cases they also caused accidents. Another plague are of course cyclists, usually elderly people riding their bikes loaded with kilograms of stuff they carry to a cemetery. The wobble, don’t see what’s going on behind them. So beware of them as well.

Not breaking the old tradition, my family visit the graves earlier. We went to Bródno in mid-October, a week later to Piaseczno, as our visit coincided with my grandfather’s death anniversary and on Sunday we went to Prażmów and again to Piaseczno. As yesterday my father was busy and I was at work, last visits were put back to today. In the morning we visited cemetery in Konstancin where my father’s family rest and then went again to Piaseczno. Fortunately, the tour was ticked off by midday and in the afternoon I could enjoy a walk on a lovely autumnal afternoon (temperature of +13C, four degrees cooler than a year ago, yet still balmy).

To the right – a symbolic grave of three boys, aged 20 – 21, killed in an accident on 15 September 2011. The inebriated driver of BMW 735 drove at almost 200 kmph, so as it lost control over the car and it went into a skid, the Burak Ma Wózek shattered into pieces. One of the passengers, who hadn’t fastened safety belts was shot out of the car and miraculously survived. Three other ones died at the scene. The accident was the local “issue of the day”, but later the coverage of it ceased. As my mother’s friend learnt, the driver was a son of a local policeman so no wonder the case was covered up. Maybe I am insensitive, but I don’t understand why so many people feel sorry for the drunk idiots who killed themselves. I feel sorry for their families and feel a big relief that they didn’t kill anyone else. And I can’t see the point in making an altar out of rear lamp and parts of bumper of the written-off car. So many people cry after three sods, while many valuable people die in loneliness…

Then I strolled west to Stara Iwiczna, to visit a small, cosy cemetery, with beginnings traced back to first half of nineteenth century. I noticed the local society has put up a symbolic grave for priest Andrzej Kwaśnik who used to be a rector of the parish in Stara Iwiczna for 12 years. He died tragically in near Smolensk on 10 April 2010.

Heading back home, I snap another nightmare outside cemetery gate. This is just a small cemetery and cars are parked everywhere. The worst thing is that everyone MUST take their cars, normally kept in a barn unused and go to a cemetery by car, even if they live within a walking distance from it. My neighbours came there by their clapped-out car and thus covered almost one kilometre in a car, rather than as they should – on foot.

Around that day, I came to think about Karol, whom I had lent 1,000 PLN in May 2010. Needless to say I still haven’t recovered the money. I decided to call his mother to find out how he was doing. I called her on her mobile, from mine, without withholding the number. There was no reply. Yesterday I dialled their landline number and in case they had caller ID detection on, withheld my number. The one who picked up the phone was Karol. Now I know he stays at home and is alive. It finally sank in to me that I’ve long got over the loss of money, but I can’t get over being duped…

And finally yesterday, while being on a loose end at work, I browsed profiles of famous people who passed away over the last year. And… the read was a bit shocking. Out of 24 people, two were hated by millions and killed (Osama Ibn Laden, Muammar Gaddafi), two committed suicides (Andrzej Lepper, Edward Żentara) and one was a drug- and alcohol-addict (Amy Winehouse). The list is lightly dejecting, but uplifting is the news that over 200 lives were saved today…

How the tide has turned...

Probably the last follow-up to the story of 1,000 PLN I lent to my ex-classmate over 10 months ago, the money I've never seen again.

Now the issue is no longer about money. I haven't got a single zloty back and totally got over the loss. I don't hold out much hopes to recover it, but Karol's family pledged to give it back to me as soon as it gets warmer and their heating expenses go down. Time to keep my fingers crossed for the weather ;-) I'm sticking to my resolution from the previous year to relieve the part of that debt as soon as they begin to pay it back. Their financial (not only) situation is far from enviable, although they said it was a matter of honour for them to pay off everyone who had trusted Karol and had given him money. They also admitted they had had to give money back to those of Karol's friends with who Karol had signed loan agreements and who had threatened to take Karol to the court. And because my ex-friend has long been insolvent this would clearly mean Karol would end up in jail, the scenario his family wanted to fend off most.

I spoke to his mother twice since my last post. Now I know I was wrong and he doesn't suffer from schizophrenia, and others who told it was gambling were right. I can't even say I'm surprised. He won several times a few hundred zlotys in the pools by betting results of football games back in 2003. I even found an article in my high-school newspaper dated December 2003 in which his brother, Adam, had extolled the betting as a quick way to come into some money. As it usually is in the case of gambling, he would win many times, got some more money, felt much more self-confident, began to bet higher stakes and... The losses began. Not hard to imagine how it probably went by...

I won't reveal much details from what I was said, but this is generally shocking. He is now absolutely aware what he has done, he does have remorse and his prospects on returning to normal life, as his mental health, are bad, very bad.

A few years ago, if somebody had told he would end up like this, I would have found it hard to believe, but I wouldn't have ruled it out. As I wrote in the first post, he had the proclivity for wheeling and dealing (kombinowanie), which few people discerned. But actually almost everyone who has known both of us would say Karol would probably be better off in life than me. Given his IQ (surely higher than mine, his mother was told this intelligence dragged him down in critical moments) and resourcefulness, he was predestined to achieve bigger success in life than me. The tide has turned, unexpectedly.

This should make us ponder upon social mobility and what its determinants are. Some people come from poor families and are not very skillful, but by dint of their determination and hard work (plus a bit of luck) grow from rags to riches. Karol's family was well-off (before he incurred debts of around 150,000 PLN), well-educated and he was extremely intelligent and apt. He destroyed all ample opportunities life had given him at his own behest... How come, I ask myself almost every day...

I feel now most sorry for his family. His brother doesn't understand the pernicious addiction is to blame. His parents try to bring him back to life, but are at the end of their tether... Uncertainty is what life is about. Now it's OK, but I don't know what happens in a few months or years. I cope with it by not taking for granted everything will be alright. It sometimes helps fend off mishaps :)

The length of today's post is sponsored by:
1) a purchase of a new LED TV (my parent's 18-year-old TV set has given up the ghost),
2) grappling with putting my MA thesis through anti-plagiarism system, printing it with dozens of attachments and having it bound...,
3) inauguration of gardening season,
4) cycling shake-down day. I just came back from a short ride around Nowa Iwiczna and Mysiadło. Weather permitting next week I shall cycle at least 10 kilometres.

Was it really about trust?

A follow-up to the story from late August. Not a breakthrough hitherto, although things have moved on a bit. I still haven’t got back a single zloty out of one thousand I had lent my ex-classmate over six months ago.

I tried to get in touch with Karol a few times, he wrote back to some text messages, but never picked up a phone. Once, in mid-October he claimed he had made a transfer to me a month earlier. When I told him I hadn’t received any money he couldn’t believe it, but also couldn’t submit any receipt of bank transfer executed. Funnily enough, not only didn’t he have any confirmation slip, but also he didn’t know to which bank account he had transferred the money. The next day he dropped me another text in which he asserted he had just transferred money and asked for a reply when I got the money. Needless to say I once again I didn’t see a single zloty.

On 19 November Karol’s mother called me. To my surprise it turned out he had told his family about much more transfers sent to me. She also added he wouldn’t return any money to me because he was “undergoing a therapy” and pledged to take over his debts. We also arranged a meeting next day, in the evening. I met up with her in her house in Piaseczno. Once well-furnished and well-maintained flat has lost its finery. Karol’s mother was quite jittery (they still have some other problems in the family) and explained she was desperately trying to borrow some money to straighten things out. I think I managed to talk her out of turning to a loan shark (who the f*ck invented the name of the company which surely doesn’t cater for provident people?) and suggested she should apply for a regular cash loan in a bank. She also asked me not to call Adam (Karol’s brother) because his nerves were frayed after months of sorting out his brother’s problems and having two full-time jobs for a few months to earn more money.

The sentence about the therapy was the most puzzling. The first supposition that occurred to me was that he had got addicted to gambling and lost all his money as a compulsive casino-visitor. Then I began putting the pieces of jigsaw puzzle together, all goings-on from the day I had lent him the money and the possible sequence of events began to unfold it was even more frightful than gambling.

Schizophrenia is a quite possible explanation. Did he lie he was a chairman of a student organisation or did he think he was? Did he have a job or did he think he had a job? Did he think he had had ordered those transfers and was he really baffled because he couldn’t find any documents to prove it? Was his strange behaviour at home, before he moved out, about which his brother told me, a sign of developing mental illness? Probably I’ll never find out the truth about what has happened, but if it’s really schizophrenia, it’s a tragic story. Karol and his family might have met a tragic fate. He was an up-and-coming lawyer, now, regardless of what he’s being cured from, he’s not going to finish his studies. His family, once well-off are now almost destitute. Will they manage to give him a helping hand after they lost all their ample savings getting him out of troubles? A fellow blogger’s wife, who is a psychiatrist, told me care from family and friends is essential to return to a rather normal life after symptoms of schizophrenia recede. Or will he be left to his own devices on account of his misdeeds?

For two weeks they Karol’s mother didn’t call me. If she fails to do it for a while, I’ll get in touch with her in January. Her assurances to pay me off sounded credible, so I’ll give them at least a bit more peaceful period before Christmas. I told her the repayment wasn’t urgent for me and I could wait for some time, but in the long run I wished to get the money back. I hope we’ll agree on a repayment schedule and I mull over what then. Given their situation and mine, I think it would be wise to write down a part of the debt, but only when they repay more than a half of it in time.

Another question is if I’ll every lend any money (except small change everyone can afford to lose) to anyone. I think lending some money (no more than a few hundred PLN) to friends I keep in with regularly doesn’t have to be ruled out. The other thing is securing the loan by signing a loan agreement, which enables me to claim my money in a court. But if I had signed a valid loan agreement with Karol on that hapless day, would I be better off now? I could sue him, I would have to lose time for wrangling with Polish judiciary system and quite probably the court would hand down a ruling favourable for me, but what would the ruling mean in a situation when my debtor is out of cash and, moreover, insane? Maybe his family would go to a great extent to repay the debt? Who would cover the litigation costs? Finally, I’d have to listen the whole sanctimony…

Hmm… I know by dint of age I’m wet behind ears and maybe I don’t handle the matter properly… So what do you make of it?

A short story about the price of trust

Till some time ago I thought the price of mistrust was much higher, but the moment I had to pay the price of trust I changed my mind.

Karol (name deliberately changed) joined my class almost exactly ten years ago, when we were beginning our first year at middle school (gimnazjum). I don’t even remember if he sat behind the same desk I sat, or was it me who joined him in. As a rather sociable person he quite easily found his way around us (we’d been together as a class for six years on then), though I can’t say he would get along with everyone for the next three years of middle school. Soon by dint of sitting next to each other we became good mates, though I could never say we had ever been friends. We were just good classmates, spent some time after school together, but surely weren’t friends for good and bad times.

Karol soon became the best student in our class and later even in the whole school. Teachers deemed him to be impeccably well-mannered and he soon also became an exemplary pupil. In fact as we all knew he was not just extraordinarily clever. He was a typical “smarty pants” – no one else would get away with getting a bad grade when being unprepared for a lesson, no one else would wriggle out of being punished for cheating during a class test. For some reason he had a charm which worked on all teachers, but my classmates and I weren’t impressed with his continuous wheeling and dealing.

Karol somehow also had an inclination for trying to outfox everyone around, but not everyone could discern it. Many people, including my parents warned me against him, I treated those advice seriously, but they didn’t dissuade me from helping him putting into practice some of his stillborn ideas. Fortunately, it never ended up badly for me, so actually I could have gone unharmed out of this friendship… Within those three years there were many conflicts within our class, but even despite falling in love with the same girl (who eventually chose him) somehow we didn’t fall out, all tribulations didn’t tear us apart.

As I dropped in on his house quite often, I met his parents and older brother, Adam (name also changed), who incidentally attended the same high school as I did, so we had an opportunity to get to know each other better. Although born to the same parents they were totally different – Adam was a paragon of virtues, Karol kept trying to outwit the whole world around.

With time we my friends from middle school fell in with new companies from high schools, old friendships began to break off. Karol and I met usually met in a bus, since we both commuted to high schools to Warsaw. From time to time we called each other, sent text messages, wished happy birthday or merry Christmas. We hadn’t been keeping in with each other since the beginning of our studies in 2006. Occasionally I met his brother in a bus and when I asked him about Karol, I’d usually hear his inclination for wheeling and dealing had only intensified (to Adam’s discontent).

Karol turned to me a few times in 2008 and 2009. Every time he had a great deal to strike but he was hard up for cash and asked me to lend him some few hundred and later even few thousand zlotys. Every time he claimed he had an opportunity to earn thirty to fifty per cent or so and promised to share profits with me, but never revealed what the gooses that laid golden eggs were. As an economist I know such opportunities generally don’t happen in the real world and each time his loan requests were rejected by me.

On 31 May 2010 a text message from him hit me out of the blue. That time he didn’t write about any profitable (read: shady) business to be done, he said we was in an urgent need of money (2,500 PLN) because he had to pay a bill (lie( of a student organisation he was in charge of (lie). The organisation was about to have its expenses reimbursed within a week plus he was about to get his salary within a few days as well. What he described were just some liquidity problems he temporarily had. He managed to earn my trust by offering to meet quickly and sign a loan agreement that would secure the repayment. On that day I was in the middle of exam period and didn’t wish to bother to meet him to sign a stupid piece of paper.

At the beginning I lied to him I had all my money in stocks and investment funds and it would take me three days to turn the assets to cash, but later on I gave in. I transferred to him 1,000 PLN since I realised this was a quite risky move and of course we didn’t meet up to put any signatures. I know very well why I did it, actually despite myself. Just before it all happened I had painfully experienced a blatant example of mistrust and I told myself the relationships between people could not be founded on mistrust, hence my half-baked decision.

Karol offered to return all money four days later in cash. He offered to come to my house, but as it was the day after Corpus Christi downpour I was busy tidying up my garden I asked him to transfer the money to me next Monday. The other reason was that my parents still don’t know about the sunk money – I somehow don’t fancy hearing the “Haven’t I told you” phrase…

On Sunday he asked me to lend him another 500 PLN, I refused. The money I had lent him didn’t appear next Monday, moreover, Karol stopped answering his phone and writing back to my text messages. Soon his voice mailbox got jammed and I realised things must have gone pretty nasty. I got in touch with his brother who promised to tell him to call me, his mother couldn’t tell me where I could find him. Karol’s behaviour became more and more mysterious.

I had a few phone calls with Adam in June, which consisted in reading between the lines. In early July we finally talked openly. Adam politely asked if I had given his brother any money and if Karol hadn’t given it back to me, I politely confirmed to find out I was a bit out of luck. Karol would behave strangely for the last four years, he moved out from home in 2009. For the last two years his family had been paying his debts until they ran out of cash. They decided not to run up their own debts to repay Karol’s obligations, so all debtors who turned to them were simply rebuffed. Karol managed to ruin financially his quite well-off family. From what I could infer from what Adam had told me, I estimate his all debts could total to around 100,000 PLN. Staggering? During the open conversation in early July Adam told me Karol had assured them he had found a job and promised to give his family a half of his salary. Till now (I called Adam yesterday) they haven’t received a single zloty from Karol. He tritely explained it away by telling his employer hadn’t paid him yet. Adam and his parents still remember about my ten stoovers and still openly declare they will transfer it back to me as soon as Karol gives them the money. I don’t hold out much hopes for getting the money back, but given the very good stance of Karol’s family, there’s still a glimmer of hope. I’ll treat this thousand as a windfall if it ever comes back to me.

Never mind the money now. One thousand more won’t make me much happier, one thousand less won’t make me much sadder (but wiser?).

How come? He used to be the best student in the whole school, everyone spoke highly about him, he was held in high esteem by everyone. Everyone said he would be really successful in the future. My teachers from middle school would never believe in the story above.

And the roles reversed. Seven years ago his family was much better-off than mine. Karol had brand-name clothes and footwear, would go on holiday abroad two years in a year, had all electronic gadgets. At the same time I had clothes from normal shops or from a supermarket, I within those three years I was abroad once for a week and spent two third of my holidays at home and didn’t have all newest consumer electronics devices – my parents were scrimping and saving to buy their dreamt-up house. Today my family’s and mine financial standing is satisfying, his family is flat broke and he ended up as a downright cheater.

I wonder what Karol feels now. I’d be surely conscience-stricken having done something so awful. I wonder how it feels to borrow money with an intention not to give it back. When I talked about it with Scatts two months ago he said in the UK he would never make a down payment for a house without securing it properly, which is normal in Poland. In the UK, in turn, he would lend someone a few hundred pound right away, in Poland he wouldn’t hope to get the money back. Cross-cultural differences?

And how did Karol manage to get into such debts? Stock market? Not that easy. Gambling? Possible. Leveraged risky deals is for me the most probable explanation. If you borrow a lot to increase your profits and it doesn’t work out you’re left with huge debts. That probably dragged Karol (and his family I feel sorry for) down.