'Bridges over the Olza' is a podcast from the 'In Between?' 2022 series, created by an international group of European students that took part in workshops and study visit in the Polish-Czech borderland region in July 2022. There are two bridges crossing the Olza river, which connect Cieszyn in Poland and Český Těšín in the Czech Republic: the Bridge of Friendship and the Bridge of Freedom. Both towns were once one, but since the last century, they have been divided by borderlines. The history of the region is preserved in the local Silesian dialect as well as other remnants of the old order. What are those remnants? How did the border look like after Poland and Czech Republic joined Schengen? How does it manifest today in peoples’ lives and minds? Produced by: Dorota Błaszczyk, Julia Ciołek, Adam Crhák, Magda Kopańska, McCall Mash, Luděk Němec, Ema Polívková, Veronika Warzycha, Maciej Zawistowski with the support of Beata Tomczyk (ENRS) and Jarosław Kociszewski, FreeRange Productions. With the contribution of Aleksandra Błahut-Kowalczyk, Petr Marciniak, Pavel Peč, Michał Przywara and Roman Wirth The series of study visits 'In Between?', initiated in April 2016 by the European Network Remembrance and Solidarity, draws on from the methodology of oral history. So far, more than 130 young people (under 26 years of age) have participated in seven editions of the project and visited a total of 22 multicultural regions of Europe. Project 'In Between?' 2022 is co-funded by the European Union. Read more: https://enrs.eu/inbetween
[Music of a jukebox]
00:08 McCall: If you are strolling by the Olza river in Polish Cieszyn, remnants of the Austro-Hungarian Empire will cast shadows on the winding cobblestone streets and the castle of the former dukes of Cieszyn towers over the city. On the other side of the river -Zaolzie - you can see factories' smoke stalks rise above the small Czech town of Český Těšín. They were once one city, not two, and you might think they are still the same city, if you don't look too close. Just as the river carves its path into the land, the border shapes people's lives.
[human voices]
01:02 Dorota: Growing up on the border marks you for the rest of your life. Roman Wirth, co-owner of a Polish bookstore on the Czech side said, he and his friends used to play an innocent children's game. The task was to run`from the shallowest part of the river to the other side of the border, climb the wall, touch the top of it and return back to the Czech side. However, Roman couldn't understand why the border guards sometimes wouldn't let them cross to the other side, even though their parents and friends were waiting for them. As an adult, he continued to play the game during hikes. Not only does he want to feel an adrenaline rush, but he wants to show opposition to the fact that the region is divided.
01:43 Dorota: Tough times call for clever solutions. When crossing a guarded border is only allowed with special permit and unapproachable luxuries are tempting, the law becomes just an obstacle to overcome. And according to the locals everything was smuggled between the cities. Roman remembers how one man was checked every time he crossed the bridge on his bike, but the guards could never find what he was smuggling. Years later this man admitted, that it was bicycles. First, he would cross the bridge on an old bicycle and then return the same way on a new one.
02:15 [Roman talks in Polish]
02:23 Dorota: Animals were also not allowed to cross the border, so farmers put rubber boots on their hoofs to hide their tracks. Michał Przywara described a memory from his childhood as a Pole living in the Czech part of Cieszyn. A passer-by asked his father and him to bring a bottle of rum across the border. Michał's dad put it in his backpack and crossing the bridge felt like an adventure. Like he was a partisan. Their plan succeeded.
02:47 Dorota: Aleksandra Błachut-Kowalczyk, a Lutheran deacon from the Polish side, admits that she had only smuggled once in her life:
[Aleksandra talking in Polish]
03:01 Dorota: Baby shoes to celebrate her son's first year of life. She hung them on a string between her legs and hid them under her skirt. But after successfully smuggling them, she felt humiliated.
03:13 Dorota: The border's importance rises and falls depending on the benefits. After loosening control at the border and the collapse of smuggling, people were also kin to take advantage of the benefits of living in the border town. Wherever the economic situation is better, both Cieszyns go shopping there. However, this led to resentment between the two nations and some rather radical solutions in the nineties. Michał remembers the great fear the locals had above the incoming Poles buying up goods on the smaller Czech side of town. So many shopkeepers stopped selling products to non-Czech speakers. However, the situation changed when Czechs started coming to the Polish side a few years later. The dispute disappeared.
[voices at the marketplace]
03:57 Dorota: Today residents live in greater harmony. At the city market Polish, Czech and the local dialect mingle. Shoppers can pay with either Czech koruna and Polish zloty. But this similarities end when paying with the card, which is less common on the Czech side. However, in 2020 the pandemic has set Cieszyns back in time. The border between the Czech Republic and Poland was closed.
[coughs]
04:22 Dorota: For Paweł Peć, Czech translator of Polish books, the situation at the border was even stricter than under the Communism. He told us how a Czech woman who was out walking the dog failed to notice that she had reached the Polish side, which led to an unpleasant situation. Roman remembers how both the Polish and Czech sides organised picnics at the top of Czantoria Hill. He recalls that even when the border guards were notified and arrived on the spot, they had no legal means to deal with the problem, so the party went on.
[sound of a party]
Dorota : Differences between the Polish and the Czech coronavirus measures divided the Cieszyns even after the border reopened. Paweł mentions that he still didn't believe when the soldiers disappeared.
[Paweł talking]
05:09 Dorota: And he asked himself: "Can I really go to the Polish part to buy their newspapers again?" When the borders were closed some negative aspects of the coexistence between these two nations surfaced. But now everything is almost back to the pre-pandemic times.
05:25 [sound of a river]
McCall: Borders open and borders close, but simply saying this does not live up to the rich history of these cities. The border has never been just the river. It also exists in people's minds. One hundred years ago, before the cities were divided, they were the centre of this world.
[sound of a train]
05:51 McCall: The Austro-Hungarian Empire's trains passed through here and the tram connected both sides of the Olza river. Now you only see tracks leading to the bridge and two train stations on each side of the river. Not even a bus connects the two cities.
[sound of a train]
06:16 Adam: This train that no longer exists, evokes nostalgia towards the past when Cieszyn was one town. The Czechoslovakia-Polish military conflict after the division of the former Dutchy of Cieszyn do not play a significant role in the life of the local community. At least at first glance. Nevertheless, they remain in the subconscious and have the potential to divide the population.
[sound of a jukebox]
06:42 Adam: Each city has a local museum that describes these conflicts briefly and only tells the story in their native language. These two institutions are just five hundred meters apart with the river between them. The Polish invasion of the Cieszyn region in 1938 is hardly mentioned in either museum. That is one of the many significant events from the past that have almost disappeared from memory. Where the history is often reduced to Czech-Polish relations, the German speaking and Jewish communities used to play an important role here too. They almost disappeared in the 1940s, as they were murdered or displaced. However, they remain present, at least symbolically, thanks to their influence on the local dialect.
[A man talking in Czech]
07:30 Adam: On the streets of Cieszyn you can hear Polish and Czech and if you listen carefully you can also pick up something peculiar. Linguists from both sides of the river argue that this special Cieszyn dialect is more similar to their own national language. What is certain, is that po naszemu/ponašymu strongly manifests local identity. Roman Wirth, when asked about his identity, pinpoints it to "stela", meaning "here" in the dialect.
[Roman talking in Polish]
08:06 Adam: The sense of belonging and identity differs significantly among the residents of Cieszyn. Those born in the city feel a strong connection to this place. Even though the current Polish-Czech border divides the historical Dutchy of Cieszyn, local people still identify with this broader region. In their opinion, the region is much more complex and more faithfully reflects the cultural and linguistic heritage. The border disappeared after both countries joined the Schengen Area in 2007. As Aleksandra Błachut-Kowalczyk recalls, the event has been widely celebrated among locals, and plays an important role in the collective memory.
[Aleksandra Błachut-Kowalczyk talks in Polish]
08:50 Adam: Despite this historical milestone, the division in the mindset of the locals remained for a long time. Michał Przywara, the director of the Polish Cultural Center, points out that the mutual relations across the river were only established around ten years ago.
[Michał Przywara talks in Cieszyn dialect]
09:11 Adam: From his youth in the 1990s he remembers the distrust and hostility at the newly opened border and the strict segregation of both communities. Regardless of these past sentiments the young generation of Cieszyn residents puts significant weight on the benefits of the European idea. Locals are united by the added value of living together rather than by some distinct local identity. Immigrants from other parts of Poland and the Czech Republic further shape the cosmopolitan character of the city, while municipal politics bridges the gap in the divided region bringing locals closer together in social and cultural life.
09:49 McCall: Two bridges cross the Olza river today - the Bridge of Friendship and the Bridge of Freedom. There was a third one before - the Kametz Bridge. But it is long gone and its memory has faded away. People cross the bridges without thinking twice. Maybe not even checking for their passports; not checking if they have zloty or crowns; barely noticing the welcoming signs: Česká republika, Rzeczpospolita Polska. But listening to the stories of the inhabitants of Cieszyn and Český Těšín, the sheer possibility of the border closing again still exists in their minds. Schengen was celebrated with Champaign, music and tears. It was celebrated by establishing a New Normal. But with recent events, the border by the Olza could become real again.
[A Waltz playing]
10:57 McCall: This was a podcast from the "In Between?" 2022 series. A podcast by the European Network Remembrance and Solidarity. ENRS is funded by the Ministries of Culture of Poland, Germany, Hungary, Slovakia and Romania. The project "In Between?" 2022 is co-funded by the European Union. Views and opinions expressed are however those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Education and Culture Executive Agency (EACEA). Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible for them.
Produced by:
Dorota Błaszczyk
Julia Ciołek
Adam Crhák
Magda Kopańska
McCall Mash
Luděk Němec
Ema Polívková
Veronika Warzycha
Maciej Zawistowski
of the In Between project, with support of Beata Tomczyk (ENRS) and Jarosław Kociszewski (Free Range Productions).