Title
Fartuch (apron)
Description
This apron ("fartuch" in Polish) belonged to my grandmother. I like to think about how far it has travelled, such a humble piece - whoever made it probably never thought it would one day be used by someone living in Oxford, in the UK.
My grandmother's name was Renia and she grew up in a small village in Eastern Poland, where she lived in a small house with her parents and two siblings. There was no electricity or running water in that house. It had a small bedroom and a large kitchen where the cooking was done on a big range. They grew their own food, even grains which they took to a local mill and exchanged there for flour. When she was 26, she married my grandfather, who was a railway worker. The job came with a slightly bigger house next to the train tracks. It had a bathroom and electricity and running water, but life was still full of hard work for my grandmother. Every day she would wake up before dawn and see to their livestock and vegetable patch before making breakfast for everyone, getting her four daughters ready for school, then setting off to work. After work, she would cook, mend clothes, preserve food, keep everything clean and tidy indoors and outdoors. In the summer, there were heaps of apples, pears, cherries and plums she would turn into jams, pies and preserves. In autumn, she would clean, dry, pickle and sort mounds of mushrooms which my grandfather brought from the woods, then take them to the market. In winter, she would take me out to go and pick up bits of coal which had fallen off passing lorries, this was used as fuel for the range which heated the house and on which she cooked. I used to love the taste of potato slices which she would cook straight on the top of the range.
My grandmother told me stories of her life in pre-war rural eastern Poland which sounded to me like tales of another world. Her family would go and do fieldwork for the 'lord'. She had had Jewish neighbours whose families had lived in the village for centuries. People from the other side of the river had a different accent - their language was closer to Russian. None of this existed by the time I was born in the late 1980s. I grew up in a country which had been altered beyond recognition by a brutal war and occupation, the Holocaust, forced population transfers and an authoritarian regime. She lived through those changes and during and after the war, as a little girl, witnessed horrible things.
Despite all she went through, she was the kindest, most compassionate and loving person I have ever met. She never had a bad word for anyone. I always looked up to her, and even now she's gone I still do. In many ways, I try to live my life similar to how she did: with love for other human beings and the whole world around us. This apron reminds me of one of her most admirable qualities - her frugality and her ability to be happy with very little. She used to use it when she would do her washing up, which she would rarely allow me to do, as she thought I used up too much water! Now I'm much more conscious of the environmental impact of everything I do, I try to live by her rules. If I could be half as frugal and resourceful as she was, I'd be pleased with myself. She passed away in 2015 and I still miss her every day. This apron helps me feel a connection to her and I put it on when I cook Polish foods, at home on my narrowboat on the Oxford Canal. I feel as though she's there next to me, guiding my hands and probably gently poking fun. We had some good laughs together!
My grandmother's name was Renia and she grew up in a small village in Eastern Poland, where she lived in a small house with her parents and two siblings. There was no electricity or running water in that house. It had a small bedroom and a large kitchen where the cooking was done on a big range. They grew their own food, even grains which they took to a local mill and exchanged there for flour. When she was 26, she married my grandfather, who was a railway worker. The job came with a slightly bigger house next to the train tracks. It had a bathroom and electricity and running water, but life was still full of hard work for my grandmother. Every day she would wake up before dawn and see to their livestock and vegetable patch before making breakfast for everyone, getting her four daughters ready for school, then setting off to work. After work, she would cook, mend clothes, preserve food, keep everything clean and tidy indoors and outdoors. In the summer, there were heaps of apples, pears, cherries and plums she would turn into jams, pies and preserves. In autumn, she would clean, dry, pickle and sort mounds of mushrooms which my grandfather brought from the woods, then take them to the market. In winter, she would take me out to go and pick up bits of coal which had fallen off passing lorries, this was used as fuel for the range which heated the house and on which she cooked. I used to love the taste of potato slices which she would cook straight on the top of the range.
My grandmother told me stories of her life in pre-war rural eastern Poland which sounded to me like tales of another world. Her family would go and do fieldwork for the 'lord'. She had had Jewish neighbours whose families had lived in the village for centuries. People from the other side of the river had a different accent - their language was closer to Russian. None of this existed by the time I was born in the late 1980s. I grew up in a country which had been altered beyond recognition by a brutal war and occupation, the Holocaust, forced population transfers and an authoritarian regime. She lived through those changes and during and after the war, as a little girl, witnessed horrible things.
Despite all she went through, she was the kindest, most compassionate and loving person I have ever met. She never had a bad word for anyone. I always looked up to her, and even now she's gone I still do. In many ways, I try to live my life similar to how she did: with love for other human beings and the whole world around us. This apron reminds me of one of her most admirable qualities - her frugality and her ability to be happy with very little. She used to use it when she would do her washing up, which she would rarely allow me to do, as she thought I used up too much water! Now I'm much more conscious of the environmental impact of everything I do, I try to live by her rules. If I could be half as frugal and resourceful as she was, I'd be pleased with myself. She passed away in 2015 and I still miss her every day. This apron helps me feel a connection to her and I put it on when I cook Polish foods, at home on my narrowboat on the Oxford Canal. I feel as though she's there next to me, guiding my hands and probably gently poking fun. We had some good laughs together!
Add your thoughts