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W–E: Life Between West and East

2025

A chance visit to a popular fast food restaurant prompted me to reflect on my place in the world and how it has changed over the last thirty years. In the 1990s, we lived in Poland between the West and the East. Right now, it seems like we are somewhere else, but sometimes we go back there. You can read about this in the comic zine W–E: Life between West and East, published and printed on a Risograph by Oficyna Peryferie.

Back cover of the zine “W–E: Life Between West and East.” Yellow background and black drawings: birch tree, bench, boundary markers, Polish apartment block from the 1970s, highway road sign.
Front cover of the zine “W–E: Life Between West and East.” Yellow background and black drawings: flock of birds, French fries, a launched combat rocket, a compass rose, a bag, a backpack, a row of thuja bushes, an airplane flying in the distance, a cassette tape, a plate of dumplings, the interior of a car with a view of the stearing wheel, the Palace of Culture and Science in Warsaw.

In 1989, communism in Poland came to an end, and the country entered the uneasy path of transformation. Not long after, at one of Warsaw’s main intersections, a first Polish McDonald’s opened its doors.

At the inauguration stood, among others, Agnieszka Osiecka – a wildly popular, fiercely independent poet. Today, the very thought of such a scene feels surreal. Back then, however, it made sense: McDonald’s wasn’t seen as just another greasy fast-food chain, but as the vanguard of the West. It stood for the promise of free consumption – something we had craved and, after forty-five years of socialist abstinence, also feared. Doubts aside, the first stop on the road to the West was already behind us.

Dark blue and yellow comic drawing. The interior of a McDonald’s restaurant filled with people of all ages and their luggage.

Over time, McDonald’s blended so seamlessly into the Polish landscape that it ceased to draw much attention – unless one happened to be reinvented from the ground up as a community hub for refugees. The war in Ukraine now reminds us, in a grim way, that no matter how many McDonald’s we build, we will always remain suspended somewhere between West and East.

A car driving with a man and children inside. Caption: a fragment of a song coming from inside: “Are you afraid of death?.”
Dark blue and yellow comic drawing. The face of the main character, a middle-aged man with a beard. A police van in front of a Mcdonald’s restaurant.

This is how literary critic Olga Wróbel commented on the comic:

Less is more, or Kuba Maria Mazurkiewicz, in two colors and on a dozen or so pages, does what many people fail to do in their novels. He combines memories of growing up in the 1990s with the present-day anxieties of a mature father, a citizen of the (relatively) safe West (this is Poland, after all). The story takes place in a McDonald’s restaurant, which is supposed to be sterile, neutral and the same everywhere. However, it conveys different meanings depending on the time, place and sensitivity of the viewer.

Premiere of the zine. The audience sitting on chairs and on the floor.
Premiere of the zine. The audience, the meeting leader and the author of the comic book.
Premiere of the zine. The meeting leader and the author of the comic book.
Premiere of the zine. The author signs the comic book.
Premiere of the zine at Oficyna Peryferie, 17.10.2025, photos by Łukasz Walendziuk

The cover flap of the zine is half open, revealing the playlist.

The comic book’s plot is filled with music, its playlist can be found on Spotify. The zine (with an English translation) is available for purchase at the Oficyny Peryferie store.