"I always dreamed of driving a bus." Actor Ihar Sihou on his new job

"They respect you, and you give back love and respect"

We are waiting for bus No. 29, driven by Ihar Sihou, at the stop near the railway station in Grodzisk Mazowiecki. It arrives exactly on schedule. The bus fills up with passengers — the route goes through the district to the neighboring town of Nadarzyn. But literally a minute later it turns out that the trip will not happen — the bus has a battery problem.

The driver apologizes to the passengers and explains that he has to call for technical assistance. People calmly get off the bus and even comfort the Belarusian: "It happens."

"Everything was fine in the morning, the bus was checked. This is a sudden problem," Mr. Ihar tells us. "The buses work 16 hours a day, without rest. I start at 4:30 AM and drive until 1:30 PM, then I hand over the bus to my partner, and he drives until half past midnight. The bus only rests during long stops of 20 minutes."

The technical employee who arrived at the call decided — the bus cannot continue, another one will be brought instead.

Павялічыць

Meanwhile, the passengers have taken other routes, and only one woman patiently waits, as she needs to go exactly where No. 29 is headed. When we finally arrived at her stop, she thanked the driver, wished him a good day, and left the bus with a smile.

"Poles are very open, not stressed; this is their difference from Belarusians," says the actor. "You feel that they are free. They say what they think. And they always speak softly. If you tell them what happened to you, they sympathize. I was also impressed by the respect for elderly people. If there are young people on the bus and an elderly person or a woman with a child gets on, they stand up without question. And it becomes clear that this is the norm for them. And young people always greet you. They differ from us in this respect. It's valuable. And I miss that among Belarusians."

Sihou feels respect and empathy for himself too:

«Sometimes they ask: why is the gentleman so gloomy? I say — everything is fine, just bad weather. So we start discussing the rain, for example. Poles show that they understand you, your work, and respect it. And you also give them love and respect in return."

Why a driver and why a bus?

Meanwhile, Polish villages with invariably well-maintained houses and plots float by outside the windows. There are not many passengers in the middle of the day; at most stops, there is no one.

"You might ask — what, is there no other job? Why specifically a driver?" Sihou says, anticipating this logical question from us. "Firstly, I do it well, just like I perform on stage. I was practically born behind the wheel; I've loved cars since childhood, and when I could afford to buy a car, I drove all the time. I've had a driver's license since 1986, and I always dreamed of driving a bus because I love big vehicles."

The actor also thought about becoming a long-haul truck driver, but then he would have to leave his family for a long time. Sihou didn't want that, so he decided that a bus was a better option.

"And it's a job with people. I love to observe them, to see new faces. Especially since the contingent on the bus is a bit different from a taxi (two years ago, the actor worked as a taxi driver - ed.), and this isn't Warsaw. In the capital, everyone is busy with their own affairs, on their phones, not talking. Here it's a completely different picture — small towns, summer houses. People communicate with each other, tell stories, and you listen in. And some people you already know because they always travel at the same time. I found my solace here, and it's not hard for me to get up at 3 AM, drink tea, shower, and go to work," the Belarusian says.

Павялічыць

After dropping off the remaining passengers near the hospital in Grodzisk, Sihou drives to the bus depot to finish his shift.

"60 zlotys (about 15 euros) for today. That's how you collect cash for a few days, and then you hand it in," the actor notes, counting the money and closing the cash register.

Mr. Ihar ponders how such routes are paid, because sometimes the fuel costs for a day exceed the revenue. But this is a state bus depot, and everything is budgeted.

"It can be unprofitable. Although sometimes the daily earnings are higher – for example, 120 zlotys (30 euros). But in any case – this is Europe, where the authorities are obliged to make travel convenient everywhere. In this sense, the infrastructure here is very good," says Sihou.

How the Belarusian language helps

After Mr. Ihar handed over the bus to his partner, we went for coffee to talk further about work and life in emigration.

"Just now at the bus depot, they gave me a sweater for tomorrow, which the driver must wear because a Polish TV channel will come to film, so I need to look decent," Sihou laughs.

Павялічыць

"And how do they react at the bus depot to your popularity in the media, that they keep coming to film?" we ask.

Sihou says he told his colleagues that he was an actor in Belarus, worked in theater, and acted in films. They didn't understand why a Belarusian with such experience suddenly became a driver:

"I explained that I couldn't go to a Polish theater because I don't know the language. In film, it's still possible — I played an NKVD officer, speaking Russian on screen. Communication on set with the director and cameraman was, of course, in Polish, but if you're not new to this, there are things you just understand. But in theater, you need to have a good command of the language. So now I've started courses, beginning with A1. And I practice on the bus, I talk to people, what I hear often sticks in my head," the actor says.

Sihou notes that the Belarusian language, which Poles understand, helps him:

"It's interesting — when you ask them if they understand Belarusian, they say no. But when you start speaking, inserting Polish words, you see that they understand. Some say — but you're speaking Polish. And I reply — no, it's Belarusian (laughs). If I make mistakes in Polish words or don't know how to say something, they comfort me — it's all right, no problem."

"You can either wait for grants or go to work"

If the language barrier is overcome, the actor plans to break into Polish cinema, but he has doubts about theater, as "it's been 5 years since I was on stage, not counting a few performances that 'Kupalautsy' played in Poland."

"Someone might say it's like riding a bike — once learned, for life. Yes, but difficulties arise, even in working with text. Life is such that there's no time to concentrate on anything. And text requires concentration. Besides, when you realize that today this profession doesn't allow you to earn a living, it becomes secondary, because you need something that gives you ground under your feet," the actor reflects.

Павялічыць

At the same time, "if it happened that we created a Belarusian theater in Poland, where we would perform in Belarusian," Mr. Ihar would go there without hesitation, because he feels like a fish in water in this regard. But for now, such an opportunity does not exist.

"So you can either sit and wait for grants, hoping something will come up in Polish cinema, or go to work, pay taxes, legalize yourself, to live, not just exist," the actor notes. "For a while here, I had no offers, neither in plays nor in films, and my wife worked for both of us, changing 8 jobs — in warehouses, factories. And we have two German shepherds and a cat at home, and feeding them is not cheap at all. And we also need to eat. All of this was on my wife's shoulders. And that's not right. In such a situation, it's not appropriate to sit and wait for something to happen. So I went to get my D category license."

The training took three months, and with the exams, five. Now that both spouses are working, new difficulties have emerged — they barely see each other. Sometimes only in the morning or at night — they greet each other, ask how things are, and then sleep, because each has to go to work. The actor hopes that over time they will be able to adjust their schedule to spend more time together.

"My wife worries about my health, because of my age and the schedule changes. But I feel good. I even lost a couple of kilograms this month. The hardest part of the job is sitting all the time. Although there are moments when you can get up and walk around during a break. My eyes get tired, especially when it's sunny or twilight. But overall, everything is normal so far. But I've only worked for a month, we'll see how it goes," the actor says.

"We are moving, we are learning"

This summer, Ihar Sihou will act in Aleksey Paluyan's film "Legacy." He will have to figure out how to combine it with his bus driver job.

"I am grateful to Aleksey for inviting me. We discussed this for a long time, but at first there was no funding, the project was rewritten several times, and finally, he didn't forget about me," the actor notes.

Sihou does not reveal details about the new role, as the script is still being refined. What is known is that the film will be about the events of August 2020.

Павялічыць

Mr. Ihar looks at the role with interest, but he himself recalls that time as very difficult, because then the actor was undergoing treatment for an oncological disease:

"While I could, we recorded video messages together with actors. But everything that happened on August 9, 10 and beyond, I saw only through the phone, because I was already in the hospital and couldn't even walk. But in my soul, I was there, with everyone."

After treatment, in 2022, Sihou and his wife participated in a rally against the war in Ukraine, after which they had to leave.

The actor is convinced that all those events were not in vain, even if not everything worked out, and "we are where we are today." In 2020, people born under Lukashenka, who had known no other president, took to the streets; that's when the Belarusian nation was born, Sihou believes.

"I think even our current situation is another step towards a free and democratic Belarus. But Belarusians have not lived under democracy and do not know what it is. Therefore, perhaps, this time, Poland, was given to us to learn."

"Is this like our journey through the desert?"

"Yes, we are going, we are learning. And it's normal if we make mistakes. That's why I don't understand these "bulb-fights" (internal squabbles) and condemning each other. People, come to your senses. Only those who do nothing make no mistakes. We must learn from mistakes and help correct them," the Belarusian says.

"What to miss?"

The actor says he doesn't feel strong nostalgia for Belarus. The only thing is, he regrets not being able to meet with loved ones, with his granddaughter whom he has never seen, and not being able to visit his parents' graves.

"What else to miss? The house? These are material things. A car, a house — all this can be bought. Work can be found. My wife and I found it. Well, we rent a house, but we don't live on the street. We bought a car. This is not the main thing. And to come back now to see what? This bacchanalia of Gruzdzevy and Azarenok?"

Павялічыць

It was very difficult for Sihou to move to Poland, but it was clear that otherwise — "either prison, or a letter of repentance, or conscience and emigration." Now life here is settled, and almost nothing remains in Belarus.

"Our house is under arrest, no one has lived there for three years. And when no one lives in a wooden house, it decays. Consider it gone. You have to build from scratch, and for that, you need money, you need to find work. And where? In which theater and cinema? If Belarus becomes democratic and Russia breaks into pieces, who will make films? Europe. And again, it's a question of language — in English or going back to Poland, where you already have connections. For younger people, perhaps it will be simple," Sihou reflects on the possible future.

A non-systemic person

The actor is a member of the Coordination Council, observes the political life of Belarusians abroad, and his main conclusion is that they need to unite and not lose touch with ordinary people:

"Today, even Belarusians who stand next to each other at marches then criticize each other, even behind their backs. This is not normal. We need to unite. And democratic forces need to engage in dialogue with ordinary Belarusians, who have suffered the most and now look at endless quarrels and think — why is all this needed? People ask questions — when will we return home? When will the regime fall? The democratic forces answer, but half of their words don't resonate with me. I don't believe it when they talk to me in an official tone. That's more understandable for diplomats, but not for an ordinary Belarusian. So let's speak simply and sincerely."

Despite his membership in the Coordination Council, Sihou notes that he does not want to be a politician:

"I'm not saying I can't become a politician or president. Alyaksandr Ryhoravich — a hint. Just kidding (laughs - ed.) It's not that I couldn't manage. I had experience when I was a theater director. But then the new Minister of Culture told me that I was not a systemic person. And then I understood that there is a system. You have to tell this to one person, that to another, and it will go to the minister and then back. You can't just address the minister directly. Subordination. Although when Latushka appointed me director, he said — if you have any questions, come to me. By this, he also broke the system. And they broke him too. Because the system must work."

"We will get a regime again, just a different one"

The problem of Belarusians, according to Sihou, is that, lacking experience with democracy, they carried the system with them into emigration. As a result, some ask: who will give us orders and tell us what to do, while others build a vertical:

"Perhaps they can't do it otherwise. Because this vertical is understandable, and it's psychology — if something doesn't work out, you return to familiar schemes. But what if you break the vertical and create a horizontal structure, where there's no one below. You became a minister, took on responsibilities — so bear them and be accountable, not someone else."

Павялічыць

The actor gives Japan as an example, where if something happens at an enterprise, it's not the employees who are fired, but the manager, "because it's not the employee who works badly, but the manager, because he has such an employee."

"And there is respect for work, and the manager understands their responsibility. And if they feel someone is not coping, they send them for training. Not to fire immediately, but to raise the level. Because this is a person, they can learn. That's why Japan is ahead of everyone today. And I want to live in such a country. As Zelensky's character said in 'Servant of the People'? 'I want the minister to live like a teacher, and a teacher like a minister.' This is, of course, a utopia, but there's something to it. We need to break the vertical, find a way out of it, and put people first. Because otherwise, we will get a regime again, just a different one," concludes the Belarusian actor.

Павялічыць

We say goodbye to Mr. Ihar at the railway station in Grodzisk Mazowiecki — he drove us to the stop where we met in the morning and then went home, where two German shepherds and a cat await the owners. The actor needs to rest, because at 3 AM, he will get up again and go on another route in the district — delivering people where they need to go and observing their daily simple lives.

• 17
• 0
• 1
• 1
• 0
• 0
• 0
• 6