My Madder Fatter Diary (32 page)

Friday 16.8.91

12.39 p.m.

Most of the students went this morning. Everyone cried. Grown men were crying. This time and place has been brilliant. Then an odd thing happened. GiGi told me that scary nurse wanted to see me. I went there and the nurse started saying stuff in Polish. GiGi said it was difficult to translate but basically the nurse wanted me to know that I was ‘sort of special’. I gave the nurse a hug. I’m much more huggy after Poland. And then the nurse went. It freaks me out. I will never see her again. Most of these people I will never see again.

We are getting an early night tonight.

9.45 p.m.

Poland

You have changed me

I am slightly less nuts

The side of me I used to be so resentful of

I am becoming most proud of

I can be sensitive

I can be silly

The part of me I tried to eradicate

Has come forward

And it’s a great part of me.

Saturday 17.8.91

4.49 a.m.

If my writing is crap
it’s because I’m writing in the dark on the way to Auschwitz. We are going to Auschwitz. I know! Last summer I’m watching
War and Remembrance
and this summer, today, I am going there.

10.12 p.m.

We are staying a youth hostel in O
œ
wi
ê
cim. It’s the town near Auschwitz. The Poles don’t like you to call it Auschwitz – for very understandable reasons.

What I saw today. Cabinets of children’s shoes taken from them before they were gassed. Cabinets of hair shaved off prisoners. Cabinets of suitcases of people who thought they were being relocated then were gassed. Actual gas canisters. Words. There are no words. In fact there’s apparently a famous quote ‘After Auschwitz – no poetry.’ Nothing matters. Nothing beautiful exists.

I just know for all my life, for the rest of my life if anyone is a Nazi I will fucking, FUCKING hate them.

Even that sounds lame. You can’t write about it. You can’t even . . . Just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again in any way you can.

Sunday 18.8.91

6.45 p.m.

After yesterday we all felt really down. Rightly. Anyway we ended up in this mountain range. It was beautiful. We went up this very unsafe chairlift but the view was worth it! Then later we saw this little metal barrier that said ‘Republic of Czechoslovakia’. It looked like something you get in a car park. Anyway I said ‘Let’s go and visit another country’ so we all joined arms, started singing the theme tune to
Heidi
and skipped into Czechoslovakia. It was brilliant until about 5 soldiers with sub-machine guns – I AM NOT JOKING – appeared from nowhere and we LEGGED it back NOT singing the theme tune to
Heidi
. What were we thinking??!!

Anyway I have not caused an international incident and I am not dead.

I feel bad having fun after Auschwitz. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that place. Should you even get over that place?!!

Monday 19.8.91

7.12 p.m.

We are on our way
to Warsaw but apparently there is something going on in Russia. A state of emergency there or something?! The rumour is all the borders are closing and everything is going hardcore communist again. In Poland too!! I do love this place but I don’t want to be stuck here forever. Shitting hell!!

Mort says to calm down. We don’t know what is really going on and we are currently on a bus and can’t do anything. Then she said ‘Do you fancy a packet of crisps?’ which is an in-joke we have about an old Central TV community service announcement.

Mort can always calm me down.

11.10 p.m.

We are in a hotel in Warsaw. I can’t hear any war and there are no soldiers anywhere.

I controlled a panic. Only with Mort and the thought of crisps though.

Tuesday 20.8.91

6.12 p.m.

Apparently the thing in Russia is nothing. There’s tanks and stuff but no borders are closing and we are not going to be stuck here forever.

Today we had a tour of Warsaw where we saw this completely horrible building that Stalin had built as a present for the Polish people called the Palace of Culture and Science. The tour guide said that Stalin basically put it there to remind ‘the Polish people to behave’. Then she showed us this Polish postcard that had a cartoon of God on it pointing to Europe. It said (in Polish) ‘Proof that God has a sense of humour – he put Poland between Russia and Germany!’

I have to say I can understand why the Poles still aren’t keen on Germany and Russia.

Does that make me a racist? I never, NEVER want to be any kind of Nazi.

We also had to go and see the Polish Education department to be thanked or something. The man (who looked like Lech Walesa) thanked us and that was it.

Now we are going to have a party in the hotel! VODKA TONIGHT! Last day in Poland tomorrow.

Wednesday 21.8.91

1.12 a.m.

I just want to say the Irish people in our group are the most amazing people at starting parties with sing-songs ever. Mary and Mark in particular. Once they start EVERYONE joins in. Angela started singing ‘When a Child Is Born’ by Johnny Mathis. It was fantastic.

I’m pissed but I’ve also had Polish crisps so I am fine.

8.12 a.m.

I am not fine. I am dying. We are looking round the square today on foot. God help us.

7.13 p.m.

We had lunch in the Old Town Market Place which is pretty and looks like it’s old but actually the Germans bombed the shit out of it and it had to be completely rebuilt. It was still lovely and then Mort and me found this mad shop. It had a letter from Eric Clapton on the wall and some pendants that bring you different things if you wear them. I chose ‘Self love and healing’. I’m never taking it off. It’s copper, round and a bit ugly but it’s Poland and it’s . . . just been the most. I can’t put it into words. I can hide the thoughts. I can do normal stuff and strangers and foreigners quite like me. I feel different. I feel like this was . . . Oh I just LOVE POLAND. It’s the most special place. It’s the place that has sort of . . . saved me. I know that sounds mad. I think I’m still pissed. It’s that vodka. I don’t think it ever leaves your system

Another party tonight. Chris says he’s not going to bed. NONE of us are!

Thursday 22.8.91

9.45 a.m.

On a LOT Polish Airlines plane. We were put on the plane last and the airport official said ‘Lots of you are drunk.’ We were! We had been drinking and singing all night. But she let us on and we have all been served – a sausage!!

Goodbye Poland. Now I’m dreading Heathrow. It’s going to be very hard to say goodbye to the people who have made this so brilliant.

6.10 p.m.

Back home. Heathrow was hard. EVERYONE cried and hugged but we’ve all said we’ll keep in touch.

I walked down to see Mum at work in Morrisons. I didn’t wear shoes. I couldn’t be arsed. Mum looked so pleased to see me but she did say ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ and ‘Where’s your shoes?’

I told her I’d had a brilliant time and loved it. She said ‘Rachel – I’m pleased you’re back safe and I’m pleased you had a great time.’

9.12 p.m.

Just found out bloody Bryan Adams is still number one!!

Friday 23.8.91

6.54 p.m.

I’ve slept nearly all today.

Just rang Dobber – apparently no-one is out tonight or tomorrow as everyone is working.

It will sound melodramatic and bollocks but Poland has changed me.

I feel changed.

Monday 26.8.91

6.35 p.m.

I’m on a bus to St Albans with Battered Sausage. God knows why.

I’m in a state of confusion. Before Poland I was screwed-up, loud, fat occasionally-funny Rae, now I’m half that and half I don’t know what.

7.35 p.m.

I think we choose the friends we deserve. That’s why I chose Battered Sausage. We just take the piss out of each other ALL THE TIME. It’s lovely and friendly but sometimes you want a chat about serious stuff. I do love him but all he wanted to know about Poland was ‘How fit the birds were’ and ‘How good the beer was’. I told him the women were gorgeous and the beer was cheap. He said ‘I’ll book my seat now!’

Oh Haddock – just stop working and let me see how I feel about you now.

Thursday 29.8.91

Had a brilliant day at Polly’s seeing everyone. Only I’m totally out of step with the charts. Everyone is singing ‘I’m Too Sexy’ – apparently it’s a song! Never heard it!

Sunday 1.9.91

2.15 a.m.

So Poland has helped many things. What has it not helped? Loving Haddock.

1. Gave me a massive hug when he saw me.

2. Said ‘I’ve quite missed you’ and winked.

3. Looked unbelievable in a STRAW HAT. YES. THAT is the level of horn we are talking about.

4. Asked me if I’d met any fit Polish men. I said ‘a few.’

5, Bought me a drink of vodka – so it felt like ‘I was still on holiday’.

Oh I need to get away from him. He is cruel and lingering hope that will never come true.

Saturday 7.9.91

9.12 p.m.

Look diary – here’s the deal. I’m not writing when I’m just numb. And I’ve been just numb. I can’t even be bothered to wash half the time. Mum says it’s because Poland was such an adventure and I came back to the same old stuff. No-one else has changed. I’m still the same to them. I can’t wait to get away now. With nothing to do except wait for university the thoughts get bad again and I just get stuck and I feel I’m going backwards again to the old Rae. Perhaps I’m not the problem. Perhaps Stamford is. The way I’m remembered. The way people see me. Oh I don’t know anymore.

No-one is out tonight again. Looks like no-one will be out again till the 28th and that’s my last Saturday night in Stamford. Everyone stop Summer jobs and come and discuss Warsaw with me!

Thursday 12.9.91

11.45 p.m.

I lost it tonight.

I went down Green Lane shops to get some milk and the twats on the wall said ‘You’re still a fat bitch.’

The thing is this is basically how Nazi Germany started with just name calling and so I said ‘Fuck you – you shit. You’ll still be sitting on that wall being a fucking cock to people when you’re 50 because you haven’t got the balls or brain to do anything else and if you lay a finger on me I will get my brother to beat the living shit out of you!’

Now it was wrong to put my brother in a fight situation without telling him but I was too angry to think straight. All the twats went ‘Ohhhh – hark at her. Doesn’t SHE think she’s something?!’ I just got the milk and went home. FUCK THEM. I’m not taking shit anymore. I don’t care if they think I’m fat. NEWS FLASH GREEN LANE TWATS – I DON’T WANT TO SLEEP WITH THICKO NASTY SHITS AND I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK OF ME.

Monday 16.9.91

5.47 p.m.

Just saw Mort for the last physical time before she goes to St Andrews. I don’t think I will see her till Christmas now but you never know. I have the best, funniest, kindest best mate you could ever want.

All my entries seem so dramatic but it really is all coming to an end this time. I feel a bit of panic. I get the mad thoughts but if I can do Poland then I can do Hull.

Thursday 26.9.91

4.10 p.m.

No Mum – I do not need an Oxford Mathematics set. I’m doing English Language and Literature at university and my need for a protractor is thankfully gone. But it’s a kind thought.

Buy me some bloody sexy bras though. (No I didn’t say that.)

Sunday 29.9.91

3.23 a.m.

The last Saturday Stamford night. Not ever – but for a long time.

Battered Sausage has threatened to come and see me in Hull to check out the ‘Northern Slices and flange situation’. I may not give him my address! Dobber was lovely and said she’d try to make it up but it’s miles from Canterbury. I said we’d go ‘Stammy Gad Mad’ at Christmas.

And Haddock? Haddock said ‘I’m only in Leeds. Come over for a beer.’ Bloody hell Haddock – if only you knew! I want more than a bloody Carlsberg. Then he hugged me after Olivers and left.

Ronni is in Leeds too. I could go over and see her and – oh that’s terrible. But I can’t just go over and see him. That’s . . . That’s like admitting it ALL. All this Haddock-based madness.

I don’t know what to do. Just go to Hull and have a good time, lose more weight, buy better knickers and see.

Thursday 3.10.91

10.24 p.m.

I just weighed myself at Boots. I am 10 stone 12! So the Polish nurse’s scales were right!