My Hometown Is a Feeling

I spent 19 years of my life in Gdansk (Tricity) before moving permanently to London. Every corner of this city reminds me of something. Every spot brings back specific childhood memories. Every beach entrance reminds me of a different struggle little me was facing back in the days. When I think of a particular street, I remember the last time I was there. I can feel the temperature, get into the exact mood, and almost feel how weirdly short my hair was.

Gdansk has it all. We have the beach and the mountains, a busy center, and the countryside a little drive away. You can go to a big mall with a cinema and trendy restaurants in the evening and to an eco market with farm food and handmaid mohair berets in the morning. The contrast in my hometown is unreal. You look to one side, and you see these new cool Brooklyn, NY style apartments, and then right next to it, you see a building that survived a Second World War, in a poverty-stricken condition. It is funny to go to one of the city's museums since the entire town is historic. You look around, and you see historical milestones, whether it is a Shipyard Gates of Solidarity, St. Mary's Church, or Mariacka Street.

Hometown is not only good memories but also bad ones. And quite frankly, I think that is great. Imagine going back to your hometown after a while of absence, and you can only think of positive things. Boring. A hometown is so much more than good memories. It is where you grew up. It is a place that made you the person you are today. It is where you tried a cheesecake for the first time, where you had your braces taken off, where someone called you a bad word for no particular reason, where you had this terrible bike accident that now makes you laugh. Your hometown has taught you so many lessons, showed you how badly a person might behave, but also how selfless another one can be. It is a place where you made your first friendships, where you watched your favorite nostalgic films, and where you realized what brings you joy. When you come back home, you realize how much you have been through before. How what once felt like an impossible obstacle now is just a memory of victory. It gives you a specific type of strength and satisfaction.

I always dreamed of moving to a big city. Intentionally, it was New York with which I completely fell in love in summer 2016. Little did I know that London would be where I settle after graduating high school. Moving was hard, even with a big dream. Gdańsk is called a City of Freedom. If there is one thing that this place has taught me over the years, it is to follow your passions and not be afraid of doing what feels right.

When I reminisce about my hometown, I feel all the emotions at once. I cringe when I see pictures from my first house parties. I laugh when I see how desperately I tried to be cool. My eyes tear up when I watch videos from the ballet school. I get hungry when I see mouth-watering pictures from my favorite restaurants. Everything is so clear and specific. It feels like home.

My city has one of the best restaurants in the world. I have tried most of them in 19 years. Again, you can have anything you want. Classic Polish pierogies? Thai green curry? Chinese take-out? Pizza? Butter chicken with naan? You can get it all. We are the most dedicated food lovers with my mom. One of my favorite childhood memories is eating out with her. Trying a new sushi place and comparing it with the others, getting a proper żurek (sour rye soup) on a cold day, celebrating my finals at the beach tavern with a glass of wine and fresh octopus. Getting a cake and a coffee at the riverside cafe at 11 pm once finished with the restaurant shift, watching the reflection of night lights in the Motława river. Some of my best hometown memories are associated with food. Even this one time when we got food poisoning from this dodgy bar now is one of our funniest memories that we cry laugh bringing up.

Before moving to London, I worked in a Thai restaurant in the old town part of Gdańsk with my mom. The first job that taught me so much. I remember the joy when I won a cocktail-making competition, getting my first tip, meeting people from around the world who decided to come to Gdańsk for more or less curious reasons.

Going to a cinema in Gdańsk with my mom will forever be one of my favorite activities. It does not compare at all to doing the same thing here in London. In Gdańsk, everything is a little less commercial. Cinemas, whether big multiplexes or intimate art-houses have their unique ambiance. There's just something in the air. Going to movies as a child with my mom made me want to become an actor in the future. This little secluded world of stories that I could experience in my hometown gave me so much hope and motivation. My love for films was born where my roots are.

When I think about Gdańsk, I also reflect on my ballet school years. I grin a little when I remember the time when a math exam was the biggest worry. I can see a freezing ballet room on a winter day and my classmates and myself trying to warm up next to an old heater. From the window, I can see trees and a pond covered in snow. Our ballet class accompanist is hesitantly trying out his new piece of music in the background. Our teacher enters the room, and everyone goes quiet.

The theatre performances were always my favorite, whether it was a Christmas performance or an annual graduation gala. The rehearsals, the nerves in the air, last touch-ups on the handmaid, and colorful costumes.

I sit on the stage after all the rehearsals. A few hours before the show starts, when no one is there. The audience is empty, the calm before the storm. All you can hear is someone occasionally opening the stage door. The spotlight warms your skin that gets the nervous goosebumps. Pieces of dust floating so visibly in the flashing lights. I look and think how busy this place will be in a couple of hours, but for now, it is just me, myself, and I.

"Five minutes until we start. Five minutes." I hear from the speakers all over the opera. Everyone is running like crazy even when their performance is in an hour. It is time for the last warm-ups, the last chance to try something on stage. You can already hear and feel the audience gathering before the curtains.

I run upstairs, open the stage door and get behind the wings. I can feel the reflectors heating my back. My teacher is standing in the opposite set of wings, nervously waiting for the stage director to give him a sign. I see him waving. The music starts playing. I am shaking, but once I make the first step, I forget about everything else.

Gdańsk is a special place, full of history, art, and stunning nature. Imagine a beautiful summer day. You are sipping your favorite drink at one of the Mariacka Street cafe patios. The sun is gently touching your skin. You can smell hyacinths in full bloom in the air. A traditional Polish pączek (doughnut) with the wild rose stuffing on your table is waiting for you to take the first bite. You are listening to the sound of tree leaves whistling above. You feel calm and warm. There is no space for worries. All that matters is now.

That is how I remember my city. A little piece of paradise on earth. Gentle and atmospheric. A place where you can deal with your thoughts either on Gradowa Mountain top or the beach. You can enjoy a coffee at the marina while watching the sunset or go for a long walk at Oliva Park. Everyone will find something they love in the city of freedom.

Sometimes when I am down and homesick, I think about all these beautiful hometown memories, and I relive them in my mind. I sing to the moon with my best friend past midnight, on our favorite beach. I order yet another chocolate fondant with my mom after school. I watch the sunrise after my 18th birthday party. I hug my family after a graduation concert. All these big and small memories are with me no matter where I go. My hometown made me who I am today. Whenever I am back, I reminisce on how different life could be if this city hasn't been such a crucial part of my life. I know I wouldn't want it any other way, though.

Until next time, my dear Gdańsk.