A road leads through a snow-covered landscape near Rettenbach, Germany, 18 November 2014. Photo: PAP/EPA/KARL-JOSEF HILDENBRAND
Well, autumn is finally upon us. By the time you get up it feels as if it’s time to go to bed again as the lack of sunshine really sinks in and hits the psyche. But it’s not just daylight, and a lack thereof, that hits Poles hard. The phenomenon of meteoropathy – that feeling you get when bad weather comes your way – is something which I’ve only ever encountered in Poland.
When you watch the weather on any Polish TV station, you’ll sometimes get a biometeorological report, with the standard traffic-light colours adorning a map of the country. If you live in Szczecin on the Baltic, then no problem, the green light shines for you and the ideal combination of pressure, humidity and temperature will make your day. If you happen to be a poor soul in, say, Suwałki, however, then woe betide you. The red carpet of doom is blanketing the north-east, and let’s face it, you’re going to feel like some expletive I can’t say on air on in print. Best stay in bed. The weatherman implies you should, so go on, take a break.
I kid you not, meteoropathy is no joke, and there are thousands, if not millions of meteoropaths roaming the streets of Poland. In fact, I’m one of them. Like many people living here, I’ve managed to acquire not just a sixth sense, but I have a seventh – I can feel pressure and humidity, and I am also extremely good at complaining about it. Atmospheric pressure too high? That must be the cause of this splitting headache. Too low? So that’s why I want to go to sleep. Any combination of temperature, humidity and pressure gives ample reason to raise the alarm of how absolutely terrible I’m feeling. Just ask Iza, one of our mixers, about the weather and what she thinks about it – what she feels about it – and you’ll realise that you don’t belong to the hardcore group of meteoropaths out there. For some, the weather dictates what we do and how we feel doing it.
But for all the scare talk, there is in fact some science behind the madness. For a start, one website I found while perusing for information on weather and wellbeing explains that meteoropaths are split into two groups: those who feel actual physical pain, and those who are more prone to psychological factors. Most people get headaches or migraines, which can actually happen during large pressure swings. On the one hand, a strong wind and warm weather fronts can affect people with asthma and heart problems. Humid fronts or cold winds really do give people with rheumatism a ride for their money, on the other hand. Down in southern Poland, the Halny wind is one of lore. The Foehn wind, a warm windstorm to us lay people, can have devastating consequences, both physical and metaphysical. It wreaks havoc, ripping off roofs and uprooting trees, but unfortunately it has been noted that more suicides occur in the southern Tatra highland region while it blows.
Luckily, there are ways to get around suffering such intolerable autumn weather which seems only to be afforded to the people of Poland. And the rule of thumb is really quite simple – get out and about, breathe lots of fresh air, go for walks, and maybe try and jump on a simple diet. I mean, I know that everyone is already chowing down on kotlet schabowy and smażone ziemniaki and saying that they’re getting ready for winter, but let’s face it, it’s not freezing just yet, we’ll have to wait for the truly arctic temperatures to set in. We also need 7-8 hours a day sleep to truly combat the dearth meteoropathy. And here we have a problem – for the thousands of parents out there, what can I say: I feel your pain.
But let’s face it. This condition is not a physical one. It’s all in the mind. Once we start realising that we can combat the weather and the dark days ahead just by trying to keep positive, we will overcome whatever the gods throw at us. Yes that’s it, stiff upper lip and carry on regardless.
And then it hits: man, my head is about to explode! Damn, it must be that high pressure front with those dreaded Siberian winds coming in from the east… Someone, give me an Aspirin!