There is the Train to Heaven n Wroclaw. It points straight at the sky. It’s a Andrzej Jarodzki sculpture “Pociąg do Nieba“, an installation, an artistic prank. A locomotive driven vertically into the ground as if to say: “Enough with the horizon, let’s go vertical.” Looking at it, a thought hits me: They built a Polish train to heaven. Meanwhile, we back home have chosen a white horse to hell.
Twenty years can change a country beyond recognition. I remember Poland two decades ago. Broken roads, rotary phones at the post office, grey stations, and that eternal feeling that “one day, it will be better.” I returned twenty years later: Krakow, Warsaw, Gdansk, Wroclaw.
Poland Today
Warsaw has transformed into a European metropolis. Skyscrapers, infrastructure, confidence. A city that went through the hell of history and said: “Fine, that’s enough. We’re going up.”
Today’s Poland doesn’t feel like the periphery. It feels like a country that realized history is heavy, but the future is a choice. The railways work—their trains run several times faster than ours. Cycle paths actually make sense. Cities invest in culture, public spaces, and universities. It’s not paradise. But it’s a direction.
And what has been achieved in Slovakia in the meantime?
In those same 20 years, Slovakia has become a country that the young are fleeing, while the government prepares us for a ride to hell on a white horse. We pay taxes. We draw EU funds. We constantly hear about “something spectacular” being prepared. Then, after 27 years, we finally open one tunnel. And then we are told that if we don’t like it, we can get on that white horse and ride straight to hell.
This isn’t a metaphor from a novel. This is the reality of our political discourse.
Meanwhile:
- The youth are leaving.
- Hospitals are crumbling.
- The education system is on life support.
- The railways are more of an “adventure genre” than transport.
- Cycle paths end in the middle of a field because the money—or the will—ran out.
Romania and Bulgaria—once our favorite examples of “at least we aren’t that bad”—are overtaking us in quality of life and living standards. And we pretend it’s just an optical illusion.
It isn’t.
How did this happen?
How is it that two countries entered the European Union from a similar starting line—and twenty years later, one builds a train to heaven while the other is looking for a horseshoe for a white horse?
It’s not about genes. Nor geography. It’s not that they got lucky and we were cursed.
It’s about priorities.
It’s about whether you treat the state as loot or as a project. Whether you invest in infrastructure or in your own immortality. Whether you prioritize the country’s future or personal luxury. Whether you offer the youth a future or a nostalgic national poster.
What in God’s name have you done to Slovakia??
No, this isn’t a rhetorical question. It’s a question we should be asking out loud. To politicians. To ourselves. To mayors. To voters. Even to those who “don’t like politics.”
What in God’s name have you done to Slovakia??
From a country with massive potential—mountains, water, talented people, industry, strategic location—we have created a territory of permanent improvisation. Everything is temporary. Everything is makeshift. Everything is “we’ll get by somehow.”
But we won’t.
How are we supposed to live like this?
We are the generation of “grazing horses on concrete.” Should we laugh? Or leave? Should we buy that white horse? We probably can’t even afford it anymore. Or should we finally board our own train—even if it’s only a symbolic one for now?
Maybe that Polish Train to Heaven in Wroclaw isn’t really going to heaven. Maybe it’s just an artistic provocation. But provocation is exactly what Slovaks need.
Because if we keep pretending that everything is fine, one day we will wake up and realize we have neither the horse nor the train. Just an empty platform with no direction.
And that is not a farce. That will be tragedy.
