October has come, which means I’m going to join the crowd of strangers that walks the streets of Kraków every day.
To my mind, Kraków is a city of strangers.
They tread its streets, looking at each other the way strangers will: with uninterested interest.
They hold their breaths when a bus they’re on is full and they have to stand close by other people.
Unwanted closeness gets on their nerves, and they get out and hurriedly go home or to pursue whatever it is they’re here for.
They’re students, tourists, corporats, pensioners, schoolchildren, fugitives and idle onlookers of all sorts. Some of them have definitive aims, while others still look for something to look for.
And this city of strangers takes them in and lets them pursue whatever it is they want.
The strangeness of this city isn’t a bad thing. Strangeness means variety: variety of people, lifestyles, worldviews, and so on.
It’s just a thing I can’t get used to.
So I go on walking these streets, BOKKA’s “Town of Strangers” playing in my mind, and never stop wondering at it.
Not that it’s bad.