Years ago I knew a Polish guy who was a physio for Olympic teams and collected post cards from places he visited. On a train journey in Russia he showed them to fellow travelers who were amazed, utterly stunned.
One girl was offered a card she specially liked, but she was too afraid to take it. The consequences of being caught with it were too frightening. A picture postcard of a foreign place. Imagine that.
A Polish team visited the UK and he asked me to meet a friend of his. They were staying in student accommodation. I went along thinking I'd take him out to lunch and found he was not allowed to leave the building; there were security people watching the lift and stairs. No lunch.
This was at a time when repression was really bad and people were struggling to survive; I gave him a few things he could barter for necessities. He told me what was going on with Solidarity and how people locked themselves in factories and shipyards to stay alive. Many were murdered and had to be buried at night. Their families were told to keep their mouths shut or else.
After the fall of Solidarity I helped one family to get out. They managed to escape by a miracle. I had food ready but they were too emaciated to eat. It was several days before they could manage anything like a proper meal.
The father told me libraries had no reference books of any kind - that was privileged information available to a few. What really blew his mind was when he picked up a telephone book and started reading the direct dialing codes for all the countries of the world. He was in shock, exploded when he got to "Papua New Guinea"!!! Total freedom to communicate - anywhere in the world!
His first sight of a punk rocker with a Mohican was hilarious - total culture shock - freedom to be different. As was his disbelief when I pointed out I'd been given wrong change at a railway station. The money was in an envelope for me to collect when we returned. He was stunned.
We take so much for granted.
if you ever feel like sharing the story please type it up and send to me....I am already captivated :)
OK, in brief:
Some years had passed since we had been in touch and I sent off a card with my new address and phone number. They had also moved, so it was a while before they got my card. Weeks passed and then out of the blue the phone rang:
Is that you? we're coming out! Phone went dead, few minutes later:
We are flying into xxx tomorrow! Phone went dead again.
3rd time: Did you hear? tomorrow at xxx! Phone went dead.
The family planned to drive to a refugee camp in Austria when they got my card. Realised that petrol could run out so they sold all they could and got onto pretty much the last flight out.
Prior to the martial law crackdown phones were cut; my friend found out which ones would be the last to be cut and was sprinting from one phone box to another to tell me the news as they were being cut.
The next day I went to the airport - flight delayed - strike by UK traffic controllers! Finally they arrived, utterly drained by their ordeal. For three hours they sat on the runway not knowing if they'd make it out, the tension was unbearable. When the plane finally took off, all the people started weeping with relief.
I had tremendous help from my Member of Parliament who made sure they would be allowed to stay until they could go to Canada, where they are happily settled. All by the grace of God.