When I visit my hometown Kielce, which is a small city in Poland, my pace slows down. When I visit my grandfather, every moment is contemplative. He lives in the same place for his whole life and so do his friends. They know each other as they used to work in the same factory. Every day they meet to play cards or for a walk. They argue a lot - mostly about politics, my grandfather is the only person who has rather central-leftist political beliefs. When we were walking together to a housing association to pay his rent (he always comes as first and he is always too early) he did not want to walk on same side as church. There is a notice board which obituaries. He does not cry over somebody's death, he just does not want to know because then he has to stop for a funeral and then he can never reach the housing association to pay his rent. He earns extra money by selling his hand-made cigarettes and this year he raised praises - because all the prices rise, so do my grandfather's cigarettes. He still keeps money in the old tea jar because he forgets how much he has on his bank account.
