En el Museo del alzamiento de
Varsovia me cuestioné durante toda la visita: “¿Cómo afrontar el pasado?” Estar
en Varsovia, Polonia siendo argentina y viviendo en Luxemburgo me hace ver todo
de una manera distinta. El Museo trata la historia de Polonia de pé a pá.
Es como una línea de tiempo que si dibujada sobre un papel, uno podría
caminarla palmo a palmo. Polonia es un puzzle reconstruido.
El movimiento de gente es incesante.
Hay personas de todas las edades.
Hubo conceptos como “abrir
cajones”, “escuchar cartas leídas”, “hablar por teléfono” (escuchando historias
y/o hechos importantes), que me recordaron a acciones mías y a de cuando era
chica.
En el Museo hay valijas de
inmigrante, hay armarios, hay representaciones de tumba. Hay realidad cruel.
La foto del ticket de entrada (sin
saber de quién es en primera instancia) muestra una mujer sonriente, aunque
sucia y despeinada. Lleva puesto un uniforme desgastado y cerca de su cuello se
observa la bandera de Polonia bordada sobre la tela desteñida.
Al salir, hojeé el libro de visitas
y vi mucho escrito en polaco. De lo escrito en idiomas que pude entender, la
mayoría escribía cosas como “queridos amigos polacos”, etc.
Corina Moscovich
At the Uprising Warsaw Museum I questioned myself during the
whole visit the following: “How do we approach the past?” To be in Warsaw,
Poland being Argentinian but living in Luxembourg, makes me see everything in a
different way. The Museum deals with the history of Poland from A to Z. It is
like a timeline that, if drawn on a paper, one could walk on it inch by inch. Poland
is a rebuilt puzzle.
The movement of people does not stop. There are people from
all ages.
There were concepts like “opening drawers”, “listen to
written letters” (being read), “talking on the phone” (listening to important
stories or facts) which reminded me of some of my own actions when I was a
child.
At the Museum there are immigrant suitcases, wardrobes,
tumbs, and representations. There is a cruel reality.
The picture of the entrance ticket (without knowing who is
the person in the first place) shows a smiling woman, although dirty and with
messy hair. She is wearing a worn out uniform and around her next it is
possible to spot the flag of Poland, sewed over a colourless cloth.
When leaving the Museum, I had a quick look at the guest
book and I a saw a lot written in Polish. From what was written in languages I could
understand, most of the visitors wrote something like “my dear Polish friends”,
etc.
Corina Moscovich
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