Back in 2023, I would walk the lively streets of Taipei in full-blown summer, sweating in my long-sleeve working attire. A quick 20-minute trip out of the air-conditioned office room at noon was an intrinsic part of my working schedule — something I would never replace with a cold takeaway box, no matter the intensity of the sunrise trying to burn my foreign skin to a crisp.
These lunch breaks became an occasion to meet others working in the same area. Taipei’s Xinyi business district tended to be full of people rushing to lunch places, dressed in white shirts and carrying anti-sun umbrellas. On one such occasion, I went out for a coffee with an acquaintance from the British Office, a professional diplomat with Japanese ancestry. On our way back with takeaway cups in our hands, I expressed my admiration of my drink: “Just perfect, not too sweet.”
She smiled rather fondly and, a moment later, recalled her Japanese mother: after trying a dessert, “not too sweet” was her highest possible praise.
After over three years in Taipei (and a total of four in East Asia, including my stay in Xiamen in mainland China in 2016–17), what could be better proof of my successful cultural assimilation than reminding someone of their East Asian mother? The thing is, a perfect dessert being “not too sweet” is something my Polish mother would eagerly agree with — and so do I.
Such cultural similarities between Poland and East Asian cultures happened more often than one would have expected. It added to my general experience of being a non-Western Westerner in the Far East: someone outside the typical stereotype box of a white expat in Taipei or elsewhere — too Eastern for the West, but likewise too Western for the East.
Good food is like a piano key for a man’s soul
Haven’t we mentioned food? I love food; trust me, other Polish people love it too. Whenever I hear jokes about “white people food” (imagined as a soggy sandwich with beans and mayo or other calamity), I get offended. Please, don’t count me as white, then.
What we share with Asians is the love of “umami.” Polish people love a nice warm broth we call rosół. It is not surprising that ramen restaurants experience a growing demand in the country. My extra sympathies are given to Korean cuisine as well, for our common love of meaty stews and pickles. You know what else we like? To put an egg in the soup — a heartwarming sight for any Asian venturing to try Polish food on their very first day in Warsaw or Kraków.
Perhaps the most Polish of all Polish soups, żurek, a dense brew made with sour rye, almost always features a piece of meat and an egg inside — almost like a bowl of warm Chinese noodles. Our traditional starch of choice served with żurek is potatoes. Recently, however, we have witnessed the birth of a new culinary phenomenon facetiously called żuramen — a combination of Japanese ramen noodles with the sour rye taste of żurek. It makes more sense the more you think about it.
However, let’s not forget probably the most important connection: the dumplings. I love them all — steamed or deep-fried, boiled or straight out of the pan. Chinese jiaozi, Japanese gyoza, Korean mandu, and Polish pierogi. With one important disclaimer: our dumplings can be served with a sweet filling like fruits or cottage cheese — something that had my Taiwanese friends open their mouths wide in shock and terror.
Come to a Polish wedding and you will see that it is just as much about food as it is about celebrating the newlyweds. Typically, you will be served up to four warm meals in the span of just a few hours — more than enough to keep your stomach full for the rest of the night filled with drinking and dancing.
Speaking of weddings, let’s not forget about the music — piano music, to be precise. I am talking about one specific composer: the Polish piano master Fryderyk Chopin. Sometimes described as French due to the country of origin of his father (by the way, such claims can send Polish people into a coma), I call him what I really think he has become: an Asian. It seems to me now that nobody loves Chopin’s music more than Asians do — and now we Poles have very serious competition in this field. Could it be because of its soft tone, or the underlying sense of mysterious modesty and restraint that fits the Asian taste so well? Whatever it is, the Polish and Asian soul seem to share a common piano note.
The grind and Asian moms
After delicious food and romantic music, let’s talk about demanding parents and the celebration of hard work. I know Europe is supposed to be all about work-life balance and enjoying yourself, but we are not doing it here.
Poles are ranked as the second-hardest-working nation in the EU. Luckily for us, it also translates to our yearly GDP growth. Starting from the 1990s, Poland idolised capitalism and the idea of hard work getting you everywhere. The strong desire to “catch up” with the West mirrors what East Asian “tiger economies” were going through from the 1960s until the 1990s.
Many things my Asian friends would tell me about their childhoods would stay with me for long. Also, Instagram reels about Asian “tiger moms.” Good grades were everything. “Are you doctor yet?” (used to be my mother’s biggest dream, by the way, until she realised there was absolutely no chance.) The pressure is real: high academic achievement in a “respectable” degree (the big three: lawyer, doctor, or engineer — good children should always choose one) and private tutors after school. It seems to me that I have lived through an Asian childhood before I ever set foot on that continent.
Parents should be demanding, and the best way to show love is through overfeeding you, but not speaking warm words. I guess that’s why both Poles and Asians love food so much.
The blank spot on the map
Until recently, Poland and East Asian countries seemed not to really see each other. However, I was pleased to see that Poland started becoming fashionable in Taiwan. The positive narratives prevailed, especially after the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, when everyone’s eyes turned towards our part of the world. A new spot on the map revealed itself — one that had only seemed to be empty.
This is about more than striking my Polish ego. I see here a true opportunity. As Poles become lovers of everything Asian — be it the food, music, language, or Korean skincare — I see East Asian businesses turning their attention to Poland in a much more strategic way.
We are on opposite parts of the globe, but our relations are very good. South Korea leads the way with 550 companies in Poland, gaining the title of second-biggest non-European investor here, after the US. Taiwan is following suit with increased trade dialogue, high-tech cooperation, and education exchanges.
Soon, the opposite current will also gain power, as Polish companies become increasingly interested in going East. The era of żuramen is just about to begin. At Polylocal, we see this momentum building every day. As a bilingual and bicultural consultancy rooted in both Europe and East Asia, we couldn’t be more ready for it.
