השואה שלי - My Shoa

Preface:
Today, I am at my friends Noa's house in Jerusalem. Spending many weekends at her house, and with her family, this is my home base for Israel; Were I feel most comfortable and most well, what else? At home! Today is both the first day of Pesach, as well as the Sun Festival (the day the sun is at the same place as the third day of creation). Most importantly for me, however, is it's the first day I feel truly relaxed and unwinded from my powerful trip in Poland. Poland was beautiful, and the homes were quaint, and the cities were nice, and the land historic, but I cannot mask the uncomfortable feeling I got by simply being there, feeling always dirty. Feeling unclean to touch the ground that many of my people were slaughtered on only 60 years ago. It felt completely wrong to be there. This was my seven day trip in Poland:

29/3/2009

Inbal let me enter the room, counting
me as שלוש. Yoav handed me this journal.
Gali stood by the table with pens.
This will be my story,
Starting tonight.

We are going to Poland, and they want us to write... לקתוב ...קותב. I have a blog, but I guess this will be my real journel, that shares more than my thoughts, feelings and experiences... but also my secrets... סודים... my raw ideas... and my unabridged feelings.

Given the stories of people who lived and died, or made it just simply through the Shoah, I guess this book will tell you my story; with all of its quirks, all of its spelling mistakes, all of my learning.

This was my first entry to my מחברת. I know it will seem stupid for me to explain what I wrote, or repetitive to explain my explanations, but I got this journal a night or two before we left. Our madrachiem wanted us to write down our feelings, which many of us, if not most, have done. I wanted to share my journal entries to portray the way I felt and not just the agenda of my day or the petty things I ate for breakfast or what the walls looked like. I guess in order for me to explain the Poland trip I went on, I figured it would be best to just take you a long.

1/4/09

Tikochin, Poland:
Shtettle life seems nice. Quaint, and beautiful, I would love to grow up here.

Lepochova Forrest, Poland:
He tells the story. I can't help but look up, my classmates look down to the ground, while my eyesfocus at teh tops of trees, their eyes focus at the blood-ridden soil.
I held back my tears. I walked to the three omnious pitsinfront of me, and to my rigth and to my left.I lit my candle and continued onto the other two pits. 14,000 dead; 17 survived. One story, the story of the Shoah, which I cannot tell.

"I wonder how many tears these trees have seen?"

Tikochin was a culturally rich Jewish community. While the majority of people were Jewish, there was still a prominent Christian settlement there too. This explains the town square infront of not any church, but a cathedral. On one fatefully day, in Nazi-controlled Poland, a call for the Jews echoed out in the town square. On the day set for meeting, 1/2 of the Jews in Tikochin showed up. They were forced into vans, and the ones who couldn't fit had to run alongside.. they were brought to Lepochova Forest near by. Their fate was already established here a few weeks before, when the Jews were forced to dig three mass graves. The following day, the other half was rounded up and sent to this forest too. I believe 130 people got away... but Poles turned in 113 of them in to the Nazis. 17 survived to account for the 14,000 others missing. In two days, the 300 year old, flourishing Jewish culture of Tikochin was put to an end.

2/4/09

Majdonek concentration/death camp outside Lublin, Poland:
I wish I could take back my thoughts, alas I cannot. It is beautiful here. Light grassy hills, rolling onto the forests. Soft blue skies blanketing over wooden, old buildings. Reminicant of Autumn, back in New Jersey, only my favorite time of year, i am met with warm sunlight, and a cool breeze.
I sit on the grass, 60 years ago was bitter mud, only 60 years ago.
I see apartments across the street, people living where they could see me. This view wasn't blocked 60 years ago.

They watched me die; 125,000 times.

The changing room, the shower room, the hallway of sorts, the gas chamber.I'm relieved the last room was blocked off with glass. I'm not sure why, but it would feel wrong to step in and then to step out. In fact, it felt wrong to look. Hastily, I left. I glanced into the glass wall revealing the S.S. room where the Zyklon B was released. Before I got a good look into the room I realized what was looking back at me, pressed against the windowsill. Two pairs of orange eyes, with black pupils piercing through my racing heart. Two butterflies trapped on the other side of the window. Two more souls unable to fly away.

I took a few more pictures overlooking these rolling hills, this beautiful sky, the surrounding city of Lublin. I don't want to see them ever again. This place isn't beautiful, this place is not beautiful.

Walking alongside the barbed wire fence, I'm not sure if it's inside, or out of this camp. All I know is I have to go to the bathroom. I don't know if its to pee or probably puke, but my stomach is turning under the weight of these memories and stories here at Majdonek; my stomach and insides are turning.

I just walked out of the crematories. The ovens are much more vile in person. The air was thick, I thought that I was tasting ash. As I left, I saw my peersspread about outside, sleeping, layingdown, and writing. A lot are still spread out, randomly alone or together, I see many of them sleeping. I'm tired. I want to go home. I want to go back to ישראל.

Majdonek was a place I would never want to return to. It looked as if the flick of the switch could turn this place right back up and running full-speed. In fact, it was been said in the past it would logistically take 24 to 72 hours to do so.
The entire camp being quite an emotional or possibly numbing place for some people, I could not be numb there. Yes I was sad, but I was overwhelmed and shocked by my feeling of anger. People live across the street from here? Okay, I understand if you were going to live next to a cemetery or a plaque commemorating people who died, but to take a lovely stroll in the morning and look out your child's window and see a pile of ashes. Literally, a pile meters high and meters wide, the ashes that were preserved are staring back at you, and you're okay to look back at it every morning? I don't understand. What angers me more is the fact you could see it from there 60 years ago as well. The Holocaust wasn't a secret! People just walked out of Lublin and could SEE with their own eyes what was happening! Why didn't they help? Why didn't they say something? Why didn't they put an end to it? Why?

I have so many inarticulable questions, all of which can't be answered.
But just simply why?

4/4/09

Novotel Hotel, Krakow; Room 227:
I'm on my bed, after Shabbat, after Havdalah. Realizing I didn't write yesterday, I came to terms with the fact "I just didn't feel like it." Yesterday, we toured Kazmiericz, and saw the Jewish Quarter and was told of the rich and beautiful Jewish Culture there once upon a time ago. Clearly, I saw the remnants of the B'tei Knesset (Synagogues/Houses of Study), and the tourist restaurants and the real graves of people important in our past. Despite seeing all this lovely stuff, I felt no deep emotion, nothing worth sharing. I did, however, felt if not comfortable, but alright in this Jewish section.
Last night marked the sabbath, but not only that, but Shabbat Ha'gadol (The Big Shabbat aka:before Pesach). This morning, after a quick and busy night preparing, we went to the Temple Synagogue for services. I led it with a staff member and three other EIE students. While we all led together, we also had distinct parts. I was CRAZY nervous, but I managed to spew out my D'var Toarh דבר תורה on Tsav זו. Congratulated on it, and all, I was still shaking after, because I was nervous as well belittled by the beautiful, awing, huge sanctuary I was speaking in, as well as the fact I was talking to 117 of my peers, my counselors, other staff, invited guests, AND the Jewish History teachers. All I have to say is it's over, and I'm still breathing.
As for not needing to, or not feeling the need to write, tomorrow we are visiting Aushwitz and Birkenau. As emotional as Majdonek was, as powerful it presented itself, I am STILL nervous and unsure what to expect.
Eerie, and also astonishing, I don't think anything can compare to the notion of Majdonek, BUT as the story continues, Auschwitz has been the icon for death camps, and tomorrow, I'll be seeing it for myself.. first hand.


5/4/09

Auschwitz- Birkenau Death Camp:
Just a short time ago, I woke up. We left early this morning and on little sleep, made our way to the buses. I just woke up. I looked through the window and I knew where I was. Six million I thought. One and a half which is attributed to right here. I was approaching the gates of Auschwitz II (Birkenau), and I didn't know how to react; I stayed silent.
An introduction, a walk along the train tracks, a view unbearable, we walked around the four gas chamber complexes. Wondering where the bodies went I looked up, wondering where the ashes rested, I looked down. Not to the ground, but to the muddy, mucky ponds alongside the remains of these complexes. I don't know how to think.

For all the names of this place, I'd expect something of beauty to be less. Birkenau means Birch. A tree I had always deemed gorgeous and special to me because of a childhood a story told at camp.

Beautiful Birch,
White as frost.
Surrounded by fields of green,
Are reduced to ash.
With the memories gone up in smoke.

I cannot say I am wrought with emotion. I am not ridden with sadness like in the forest in Lepochova, I am not angry and full of fear like I was at Majdonek. Sitting on a field in Birkenau, I feel complacent. I, all I feel is confusion.

In these last two entires, I could not put it better myself
(... Wow, I realize I make lame jokes. But, I think that's how I have been dealing with this amount of emotion recently.. in a mellow satirical way). But, my point is, I couldn't rephrase what I had previously wrote. I could throw out the statistics, tell the whole story like I did about Tikochin, but I think for these two in specific, there are only questions being raised, and I can identify that what I wrote was simply enough for now.


7/4/09 2:17 AM

Jerusalem, Israel
Although It felt as if yesterday hasn't ended, my Ipod says otherwise. 'The day before yesterday' on the 5th, i ended at Birkenau. We followed up by going to Auschwitz I. It was a museum. It was the first time I think I smiled all week. Not because I was happy, no, not at all. Not because I didn't know the number of lives lost, trust me I did. But I was relieved. It might have been the sight of what the museum spoke about, but it was just a museum. It was the first time on Polish ground where I didn't feel like I was stepping on the bloody ground, while in every sense of the word contradiction, I was in fact probably standing on liters worth.

"Yesterday," Warsaw was the focus. We visited the remaining walls of teh Ghett, and we spoke about all the ways we resisted, and the legacy of the resistance, mainly the fact we were standing there today. It was the first time I felt a sense of, I can't finגthe words: we stood up.
Later, we spoke to Polish students. I felt like it was useless because they weren't responisble, and often felt as horrible about it as we did, minus the fact WE were the hunted Jews. I felt like it was useless and awkward, but at least I learned, life goes on, but not even they forgot.

I'm sitting in my hostel room, waiting for today to truly start. I can not describe the plane ride home. It, itself, was not fun, but I was coming HOME. I was getting out of Poland, blood-ridden Poland, and instead of going to Israel, my homeland, I was going to simply Israel, my home. It's the best feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe. I'm sad on the humongous levels that people who once called their home פולניה Po-lan-yah (Here Gd Rests), got deprived of these feelings of security and comfort so fast. Not being able to reflect for long, being early in the morning, all I feel is relieved. I can rest my feet on the ground and not be disgusted in humankind. I can kiss the ground in fact! I can shout I am home, and I never ever want to go back! I don't want to leave my home again, I never want to feel like that ever again.

Epilouge:
My Poland experience was in fact an experience. I am glad to be back, and I'm happy that that depressing feeling, suppressed version of memory, is off my shoulders for now. I plan on DOING something with what I learned, but for the up coming week, walking from the Galil to the Mediterranean, I hope to keep my mind of these matters for now. I think every one just once, needs to go to Poland, but aside from that there is nothing else I can add.
Hearing stories of the Shoah, I have missed my family a lot. Even though Rachel is on the trip with me, I miss the rest of my family extremely so. Tonight is the first night of Pesach, and I think for the first time ever, it will not be spent with my family. Talking about the exodus from Egypt to the Promised land of Eretz Yisrael, I think it was very appropriate that the end of the Poland trip coincided with the beginning of Passover. Still, with this, the Poland trip and the lack of my family during Pesach made me appreciate what it means to be Jewish (both religiously and nationality) as well as what the extent of family can go to, and how you can never waste a day with them.