Additional thoughts....
The trip was a very
meaningful experience. It helped me formulate my Jewish identity. I am very
happy I was able to experience this with my peers and I believe this trip
brought us closer together. It was an unforgetable experience.
Shana M.
Class of 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Thank you Claire Simmons....
Claire,
I
just wanted to let you know how great of an experience I had. On our
way to Poland I had no idea what to expect. On my way back to America I had no
idea what I experienced. I do know that the trip changed me, I now hold a
new appreciation for Judaism, and Israel. There are many other
feelings I experienced and I do not know how to describe. I would like to
thank you for this great experience, it truly was a
unique experience that I would not trade for anything.
I appreciate you taking your time to teach, and tell us personal stories
from the Holocaust. Reviewing the journal I kept during the trip brought
up many emotions that I did not know I had. It will defiantly take
time to fully appreciate the trip and for me to attempt to comprehend what
we saw. In Prague I had a great time exploring
the beautiful city and I thank you for
that opportunity. Thank you again, I hope to see you soon.
With
Love,
Max
F.
Class of 2012
Thoughts....
As I look back through my high-school career I can think of no
learning experience that has completely altered the way in which I view the
world than my Eastern European Holocaust academic tour with a Jewish historian.
I was one of fourteen students. Never have I experienced a learning intensive
that has touched my heart as this trip has. I am writing this from a hotel in
the Czech Republic after spending four emotional days in Poland, touring
through Warsaw, Lublin, and Krakow. After walking the steps of my cultural
ancestors, hearing individual tales of Jewish resistance fighters (both
physically and spiritually) and witnessing the sites of pure evil, “the
basement of humanity,” my worldly view has drastically changed. I am a secular
Jew and I attend a Jewish Day school. I have taken for granted the ability to
learn about Judaism, to study from the Torah; I suppose that I have never
realized the horrors that my people went through to keep the tradition alive. I have a fire within myself to follow
the lead of my cultural protectors. The portable aspect of our religion comes
through books. No matter how many are banned or burned, books always sneak
through the cracks and can be passed down to future generations. It was once
theirs, but is now my burden to learn and continue Jewish learning and heritage
so my descendants can keep the faith.
Rav Shapira instituted into the Chasidic community the
practice of Daf Yomi, learning one
page of Talmud every day. Although I know that this is a rather large stretch
for my ability I feel it my responsibility to show kavana and make my way through the Talmud within my life. My
secular eyes have been opened and the importance of my Judaism has become more
and more clear. Evil has tried to extinguish my people yet the depths of my
ancestor’s faith and knowledge has prevailed through the indescribable trials
and tribulation. As I see the Jewish faith diminishing within the young people
of the secular world I feel I can not sit back and watch it happen. I believe
that the time has come in my life to take my Judaism seriously and intensely
study the books of my culture so that the knowledge can pass onto the
generations to come.
Slater S.
Class of 2013
Class of 2013
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sunday, 3.18.2012
After breakfast in the hotel we walked along the square and on to the Jewish Quarter. We visited the Pinkas Synagogue (15th century) where nearly 80,000 names of murdered Jews are written on the massive walls, the Old New Synagogue, Klaus Synagogue and the Old Jewish Cemetary. We saw the Hall of Ceremonies, which is an exhibition of drawings of the children of Terezin Concentration Camp/Getto. We also saw the house and a statue comemorating Franz Kafka (a Prague/ German Jewish writer).
An Afternoon of freetime ended with a vegitarian dinner and a final sharing session. What a remarkable, intuitive, sensitive group of students!
Tomorrow we separate 6 will return to the US and 10 will continue on to Israel.
After breakfast in the hotel we walked along the square and on to the Jewish Quarter. We visited the Pinkas Synagogue (15th century) where nearly 80,000 names of murdered Jews are written on the massive walls, the Old New Synagogue, Klaus Synagogue and the Old Jewish Cemetary. We saw the Hall of Ceremonies, which is an exhibition of drawings of the children of Terezin Concentration Camp/Getto. We also saw the house and a statue comemorating Franz Kafka (a Prague/ German Jewish writer).
Tomorrow we separate 6 will return to the US and 10 will continue on to Israel.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
in need of a bit of catching up........
We marched into Birkenau behind the Israeli flag, some, grandchildren of survivors. We entered the barracks area first in an attempt to witness and to understand what it was like to live in this place. In the latrine building, rows of unseparated cement toilets we learned of the dehumanization process, whereby the Jews were stripped of all semblances of humanity, from hair and clothing to names and dignity. In this place, Jews were not in charge of their own bodily functions; the Nazis dictated when and where and for how long, no privacy.
We heard from Claire Simmons the personal story of her mother and aunt’s spiritual resistance among the most dehumanizing physical conditions. How young women bit off the hems of their issued dress to create a belt for their shapeless shift. Other women, shorn of their hair, fashioned make-shift kerchiefs to hide their bare heads. A rabbi found a student from a different yeshiva in a different town and together they studied Talmud, a new page every day, and by doing that this became their act of spiritual resistance that fed the survivors’ continuing drive to live.
Claire told us of her mother’s experience in Auschwitz. The deeply personal story was incredibly powerful we stood side by side together, reflecting on her strength, on the challenge of being a child and grandchild of survivors, and on the courage to raise a family immediately post-Holocaust.
We then returned to the train tracks and followed in the footsteps of new arrivals to Birkenau, passing an original cattle car used to transport the Jews and others to this hell. At the selection platform, affectionately termed “the ramp” by the Nazis, families were torn from one another as they were sorted by age, gender and work ability. Here was the last place many saw their parents, their siblings, their spouses, their last memory to be the backs of their loved ones. Here the trains came in and out and it was determined who would live and who would die. We saw the path to the barracks for those who would live, and we walked the path of those sentenced to immediate execution, following the train tracks to the site of one of Auschwitz’s five crematoria, which now lies in ruins as a result of the Nazis’ attempt to destroy the evidence of what happened in this camp. We imagined the immensity of the structure, following the path from hair shearing, to the collection of clothing, to the gas chamber and up the lift to the ovens and crematoria that were on the upper level. All that remains now is an outline of the collapsed building and piles of bricks. We could see the shapes of a few chimneys and ovens, and the stairs leading down to the hell from which tens and hundreds of thousands would never escape.
From there we walked silently around the gas chamber to “the pond,” a repository for ash and bones from two crematoria. As we surrounded the area, we lit candles and held a beautiful memorial service. We spoke of the non-Jewish victims, remembering the gypsies, homosexuals, political prisoners and others who, too, were tormented in Auschwitz and other camps by the Nazis. We remembered and honored the Righteous Gentiles. An Israeli group of students stopped and joined us in prayer as we concluded our memorial ceremony with the chanting of El Maleh Rahamim by Sam and a communal recitation of kaddish. Claire hung an Israeli flag inside the crematoria as a statement that “Am Yisrael Chai” – the people of Israel live on – and we sang HaTikva loudly and proudly.
Unlike those who were murdered in this place, we walked out of Birkenau on the train tracks which carried our people to their deaths. Students reflected on the experience and many paused along the route, some to examine the cattle car resting on the tracks and others to ponder the horrors and the power of liberation and continued existence after living through such hell.
March 15, 2012
Thursday was
intense. After another early morning wake up, we visited four of the last remaining
synagogues in Krakow, all within blocks of each other. The first was the oldest
in the city the Old Synagogue, then on to the Isaac Shul and Remu Shul
which are still operational. Our final was the Tempel, an incredibly ornate synagogue built in the 1860s in the
classical Reform style; it now houses many community functions but does not
operate regularly as a synagogue. We then drove 1.5 hours outside Krakow to the
Polish town of Oswiecim, a town made notorious by its German name and the camp
it housed: Auschwitz. En route, we read excerpts from Primo Levi’s Survival in
Auschwitz. We learned about the intake process at the camp. We learned how
everyday words in a civilized society take on new meanings in the camp. Words such
as cold and hunger take on new and more horrible meanings. We read about the
daily selections, the randomness of decisions that meant life or death. But
nothing prepared us for what we were to see. How eery to come thought the
beautiful countryside and normal looking town, to arrive at high hideous barbed
wire fences and deserted barracks. It was
here, on the tracks at Birkenau, facing the outside world, the highway parallel
to the camp, and the Israeli flag in hand that we stood together, questioning
God and humanity from the depths, even as we questioned God’s presence (then
and now) and the ability of man to cause such harm to man.
We marched into Birkenau behind the Israeli flag, some, grandchildren of survivors. We entered the barracks area first in an attempt to witness and to understand what it was like to live in this place. In the latrine building, rows of unseparated cement toilets we learned of the dehumanization process, whereby the Jews were stripped of all semblances of humanity, from hair and clothing to names and dignity. In this place, Jews were not in charge of their own bodily functions; the Nazis dictated when and where and for how long, no privacy.
We heard from Claire Simmons the personal story of her mother and aunt’s spiritual resistance among the most dehumanizing physical conditions. How young women bit off the hems of their issued dress to create a belt for their shapeless shift. Other women, shorn of their hair, fashioned make-shift kerchiefs to hide their bare heads. A rabbi found a student from a different yeshiva in a different town and together they studied Talmud, a new page every day, and by doing that this became their act of spiritual resistance that fed the survivors’ continuing drive to live.
Claire told us of her mother’s experience in Auschwitz. The deeply personal story was incredibly powerful we stood side by side together, reflecting on her strength, on the challenge of being a child and grandchild of survivors, and on the courage to raise a family immediately post-Holocaust.
We then returned to the train tracks and followed in the footsteps of new arrivals to Birkenau, passing an original cattle car used to transport the Jews and others to this hell. At the selection platform, affectionately termed “the ramp” by the Nazis, families were torn from one another as they were sorted by age, gender and work ability. Here was the last place many saw their parents, their siblings, their spouses, their last memory to be the backs of their loved ones. Here the trains came in and out and it was determined who would live and who would die. We saw the path to the barracks for those who would live, and we walked the path of those sentenced to immediate execution, following the train tracks to the site of one of Auschwitz’s five crematoria, which now lies in ruins as a result of the Nazis’ attempt to destroy the evidence of what happened in this camp. We imagined the immensity of the structure, following the path from hair shearing, to the collection of clothing, to the gas chamber and up the lift to the ovens and crematoria that were on the upper level. All that remains now is an outline of the collapsed building and piles of bricks. We could see the shapes of a few chimneys and ovens, and the stairs leading down to the hell from which tens and hundreds of thousands would never escape.
From there we walked silently around the gas chamber to “the pond,” a repository for ash and bones from two crematoria. As we surrounded the area, we lit candles and held a beautiful memorial service. We spoke of the non-Jewish victims, remembering the gypsies, homosexuals, political prisoners and others who, too, were tormented in Auschwitz and other camps by the Nazis. We remembered and honored the Righteous Gentiles. An Israeli group of students stopped and joined us in prayer as we concluded our memorial ceremony with the chanting of El Maleh Rahamim by Sam and a communal recitation of kaddish. Claire hung an Israeli flag inside the crematoria as a statement that “Am Yisrael Chai” – the people of Israel live on – and we sang HaTikva loudly and proudly.
Unlike those who were murdered in this place, we walked out of Birkenau on the train tracks which carried our people to their deaths. Students reflected on the experience and many paused along the route, some to examine the cattle car resting on the tracks and others to ponder the horrors and the power of liberation and continued existence after living through such hell.
March 16, 2012
We arrived in Prague early Friday morning and quickly checked into our rooms. We spent a few hours catching up on sleep and reconvened for lunch, after which we set out for the day. All were excited to be in Prague and eager to see the beauty of the city.
Our primary stop was also our final Holocaust site – Terezin (Thereisenstadt). Terezin was originally constructed as two fortresses, one large and one small. When the Nazis overtook the town, they used the small fortress as a prison and headquarters, and the large fortress housed the Jewish ghetto. The town that once housed 5,000 was suddenly overrun with 55,000 living in tight quarters in this model concentration camp/ghetto.
We started our visit in the Ghetto Museum, where we viewed a Nazi propaganda film about the ghetto filmed around the time of the Red Cross visit in summer 1944. Propaganda images of Jews playing soccer and enjoying their communal life in the ghetto were juxtaposed with artistic renderings of the ghetto’s inhabitants featuring hollowed out faces, abstract renderings of unspeakable horrors, and images of starvation and illness. The numbers of transports from Terezin to Auschwitz were staggering: of 1,000 deportees 0 survivors; of 1,000 deportees, 3 survivors; repeated again and again. The second film we viewed used the colorful drawings and paintings of the ghetto’s youngest inhabitants, the children, and the words of their poetry to tell the story of life in the ghetto.
Much of the discussion both in the theater and as we walked outside focused on the role of the Red Cross and how easily they were deceived by the Nazi propaganda..
On our way out of the Museum, we viewed the original artwork of the children and read their poems, many of which we were familiar with from our reading of I Never Saw Another Butterfly. The power of the ghetto experience as portrayed by the children was overwhelming, and students spent long moments contemplating the loss of innocence representing in the simple crayon and watercolor pictures.
We visited a hidden synagogue, brought to light in recent years, which was to be a new owners garage. The Jewish community has now taken over the synagogue and four years ago completed the process of restoring the various prayers and images painted inside the tiny room. We chanted the Shema together, once again sanctifying this space with the words of prayer. We also learned about Rabbi Leo Baeck, a great Reform rabbi who served as the head of the Judenrat (Jewish Council) in the ghetto and ultimately survived the war.
We conducted our final memorial service inside the crematoria of Terezin. Over 30,000 Jews died in the ghetto, and many thousands more were deported to their deaths at Auschwitz and Treblinka. The service focused on the children, for Terezin was one of the only ghettos where children could experience a glimpse of life as children. It was here that children were given access to the pencils and crayons they used to record their experience. We read “For the Children,” wherein a child killed in the Holocaust spoke to his/her peers, asking them to “bounce the ball for me,” to “run, throw, jump and laugh one more time, for me.” Sam chanted El Maleh Rachamim and we once again recited Kaddish together. We sang the words of Legacy and Hatikva loud and proud.
We arrived in Prague early Friday morning and quickly checked into our rooms. We spent a few hours catching up on sleep and reconvened for lunch, after which we set out for the day. All were excited to be in Prague and eager to see the beauty of the city.
Our primary stop was also our final Holocaust site – Terezin (Thereisenstadt). Terezin was originally constructed as two fortresses, one large and one small. When the Nazis overtook the town, they used the small fortress as a prison and headquarters, and the large fortress housed the Jewish ghetto. The town that once housed 5,000 was suddenly overrun with 55,000 living in tight quarters in this model concentration camp/ghetto.
We started our visit in the Ghetto Museum, where we viewed a Nazi propaganda film about the ghetto filmed around the time of the Red Cross visit in summer 1944. Propaganda images of Jews playing soccer and enjoying their communal life in the ghetto were juxtaposed with artistic renderings of the ghetto’s inhabitants featuring hollowed out faces, abstract renderings of unspeakable horrors, and images of starvation and illness. The numbers of transports from Terezin to Auschwitz were staggering: of 1,000 deportees 0 survivors; of 1,000 deportees, 3 survivors; repeated again and again. The second film we viewed used the colorful drawings and paintings of the ghetto’s youngest inhabitants, the children, and the words of their poetry to tell the story of life in the ghetto.
Much of the discussion both in the theater and as we walked outside focused on the role of the Red Cross and how easily they were deceived by the Nazi propaganda..
On our way out of the Museum, we viewed the original artwork of the children and read their poems, many of which we were familiar with from our reading of I Never Saw Another Butterfly. The power of the ghetto experience as portrayed by the children was overwhelming, and students spent long moments contemplating the loss of innocence representing in the simple crayon and watercolor pictures.
We visited a hidden synagogue, brought to light in recent years, which was to be a new owners garage. The Jewish community has now taken over the synagogue and four years ago completed the process of restoring the various prayers and images painted inside the tiny room. We chanted the Shema together, once again sanctifying this space with the words of prayer. We also learned about Rabbi Leo Baeck, a great Reform rabbi who served as the head of the Judenrat (Jewish Council) in the ghetto and ultimately survived the war.
We conducted our final memorial service inside the crematoria of Terezin. Over 30,000 Jews died in the ghetto, and many thousands more were deported to their deaths at Auschwitz and Treblinka. The service focused on the children, for Terezin was one of the only ghettos where children could experience a glimpse of life as children. It was here that children were given access to the pencils and crayons they used to record their experience. We read “For the Children,” wherein a child killed in the Holocaust spoke to his/her peers, asking them to “bounce the ball for me,” to “run, throw, jump and laugh one more time, for me.” Sam chanted El Maleh Rachamim and we once again recited Kaddish together. We sang the words of Legacy and Hatikva loud and proud.
Kabbalat Shabbat was with the
community at the Old New Synagogue, the oldest synagogue in Europe. It is said
the Golem remains in the attic of this ancient structure.Shabbat dinner was also with the community in the Jewish center. There,
Kiddush was lead by the alter Rebbe of the Shul. Shabbat song was proceeding
normally when we quickly realized we were in the presence of a very talented
family at the next table. The children, led by their father a Hazzan from
Israel, sang in such harmony our souls were touched by their musical voices. Plentiful
food and song spirited us into Shabbat.
March 17, 2012
Shabbat morning we joined the local community in davening at the Old New Synagogue. After lunch we took a walking tour of the Castle areas of Prague and then some much needed free time in Old Town Square. It has been a long, difficult, and rewarding week.
Shabbat morning we joined the local community in davening at the Old New Synagogue. After lunch we took a walking tour of the Castle areas of Prague and then some much needed free time in Old Town Square. It has been a long, difficult, and rewarding week.
Shavua tov !
.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Day three...
A fifteen minute drive through the city brought us to the gates of Majdanek, the first of six Nazi death camps to be liberated, this one in July 1944. Unlike most of the other camps, Majdanek is largely intact – the showers, gas chambers, and crematoria are all still standing. We watched a film about the administration and history of the camp, viewing images of the perpetrators and the victims. How could people drive by Majdanek on this main highway out in front and not question the eerie installation? What world was this that such horrors as the November 1943 “Harvest Festival” wherein 18,300 were shot to death in the fields of the camp in one day were able to happen in the open so close to a large population?
We followed the steps of those sentenced to death, walking through the gates, the rooms where hair was shaved and clothes were taken, the shower rooms and the gas chambers. Unlike so many, however, we then walked outside and breathed the fresh air.
The remaining barracks are now a museum. One barracks houses a topographical map of the Lublin region and of the Majdanek camp as it stood from 1941 until its liberation by the Soviets in July 1944. Another is filled from floor to ceiling along the entire length of the barracks with shoes from those deported to Majdanek (unfortunately, this building was closed for renovation following a fire that broke out there last year). Still other barracks house as they stood at various periods of the camp's existence.
Hello from Krakow!
After an incredibly long journey, spiritually, emotionally and by bus, we have
arrived safely in Krakow.
Our journey today began with a visit to Yeshivat Chochmei Lublin (the Yeshiva of the Wise Men of Lublin). The yeshiva first opened its doors to students in 1930, and graduated its first class in 1934. It was built as a modern institute of Jewish learning under the tutelage of Rabbi Meir Shapira, most commonly known for developing the practice of daf yomi, the tradition of studying one page of Talmud a day. The yeshiva was rededicated to the Jewish community five years ago and is in the process of being renovated. A Torah scroll has been rededicated and both the Beit Knesset (chapel) and Beit Midrash have been refurbished and a new mikvah was recently dedicated. The latest word is that the Yeshiva will open next year as a kosher hotel to serve the visiting Jewish community.
It was quite powerful to hear the voices echoing in this hall, as we davened shacharit. We ended our morning prayer with song and dance in in front of the Aron Kodesh.
Our journey today began with a visit to Yeshivat Chochmei Lublin (the Yeshiva of the Wise Men of Lublin). The yeshiva first opened its doors to students in 1930, and graduated its first class in 1934. It was built as a modern institute of Jewish learning under the tutelage of Rabbi Meir Shapira, most commonly known for developing the practice of daf yomi, the tradition of studying one page of Talmud a day. The yeshiva was rededicated to the Jewish community five years ago and is in the process of being renovated. A Torah scroll has been rededicated and both the Beit Knesset (chapel) and Beit Midrash have been refurbished and a new mikvah was recently dedicated. The latest word is that the Yeshiva will open next year as a kosher hotel to serve the visiting Jewish community.
It was quite powerful to hear the voices echoing in this hall, as we davened shacharit. We ended our morning prayer with song and dance in in front of the Aron Kodesh.
A fifteen minute drive through the city brought us to the gates of Majdanek, the first of six Nazi death camps to be liberated, this one in July 1944. Unlike most of the other camps, Majdanek is largely intact – the showers, gas chambers, and crematoria are all still standing. We watched a film about the administration and history of the camp, viewing images of the perpetrators and the victims. How could people drive by Majdanek on this main highway out in front and not question the eerie installation? What world was this that such horrors as the November 1943 “Harvest Festival” wherein 18,300 were shot to death in the fields of the camp in one day were able to happen in the open so close to a large population?
We followed the steps of those sentenced to death, walking through the gates, the rooms where hair was shaved and clothes were taken, the shower rooms and the gas chambers. Unlike so many, however, we then walked outside and breathed the fresh air.
The remaining barracks are now a museum. One barracks houses a topographical map of the Lublin region and of the Majdanek camp as it stood from 1941 until its liberation by the Soviets in July 1944. Another is filled from floor to ceiling along the entire length of the barracks with shoes from those deported to Majdanek (unfortunately, this building was closed for renovation following a fire that broke out there last year). Still other barracks house as they stood at various periods of the camp's existence.
We next made our
entry into the “new” crematoria building, built in 1943 when it was determined
the original crematoria was not big enough. Whereas the original could burn 100
bodies a day, these “new crematoria” houses five ovens and was capable of
burning up to 1,000 bodies per day. We laid an Israeli flag in front of the
ovens, and looked into the yahrzeit
candles placed in front of it as we remembered those who perished here. Kaddish was again recited.
We stood witness at the ashes – a huge concrete domed facility housing ashes of thousands who were murdered at Majdanek and whose remains lack a formal grave.
Outside, we stood on the edge of the pit where 18,300 Jews were shot in a single day as part of the Erntefest, or “Harvest Festival”, in November 1943.
We stood witness at the ashes – a huge concrete domed facility housing ashes of thousands who were murdered at Majdanek and whose remains lack a formal grave.
Outside, we stood on the edge of the pit where 18,300 Jews were shot in a single day as part of the Erntefest, or “Harvest Festival”, in November 1943.
We boarded the bus -
exited the camp and headed for the former shtetel of Checiny near Kielce. We
saw the old synagogue site, the mikvah
building and walked around the square where remnants of the old walls and
buildings still stand. The local people gave us quizzical looks.
We dined in the old Jewish Quarter on traditional polish foods!
We may not be able to update this blog until Sunday evening, as
tomorrow we are busy until the moment we get on the bus and travel overnight to Prague.
Know that we are well.
Lila Tov.
Know that we are well.
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