IAt some point on this morning, when the June sun has already climbed far up the Lower Silesian sky, the material of the protective sweatshirt is sticking to my arms and the basket with the asparagus is already quite heavy, I look at Marcin, who owns this field, and ask him whether that’s exactly what every day looks like for him at the moment, with sun, sweat and asparagus. Marcin smiles mildly and asks back: “Who should take it off me? The Germans?”
Well, actually why not? After all, a German is already there.