Praha 35, or Before I Lose It

The title of this entry doesn't refer to my mind; it refers to my thoughts about Poland, although thinking about Poland makes me think I'm going to lose my mind sometimes. First though, I'd like to direct all readers to the comments section of my last post. I think every post there was articulate, well-thought-out, evocative and relevant. So, thank you, commentors.

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I'm holed up and sniffling in a hotel in Wroclaw, our last night in Poland. I've somehow contracted a terrible head cold, and am consequently entertaining myself with German cooking shows dubbed in Polish and cough drops. My roomate has left her computer open, and I can see that she's getting wireless internet in the hotel. I check my trusty blog, see that a few people have left comments on my last entry. As I read YLMP's words, I break into sobs, completely unexpectedly. It doesn't last very long, but it's long enough to feel a tiny bit of release.

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Polish people are nicer than Czech ones. I realize this when a fast food worker hands me my zapiekanka, a piece of crusty bread with melted cheese, mushrooms, ketchup and chives, and actually smiles at me. I'm so dumbstruck that I don't know what to do for a moment. And then I remember my manners and say dekujeme, which is Czech, not Polish, but the Polish word is close enough. Later, when Ellen gets lost for the tenth time, she reports that the man she asked for directions not only drew her a map, but he walked her halfway to her destination.

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The night we visited Auschwitz, we also had a talk with some Polish high school students. These students are participating in a 3-year program about the Jewish history in the town of Auschwitz - a history that stretches back about 700 years! It is a program designed to help young Poles feel connected to the Jewish culture that shaped their own culture until the Holocaust, and to promote solidarity and tolerance (how I despise that word!). The students are very enthusiastic, coming out at 8:00 on a school night to talk to Americans. Their English is excellent, if not very confident. I ask one, "When did you first meet a Jew?" "This year, I think," she says. "But one of the things I've learned is that I maybe have friends who don't know they are Jews."

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The Holocaust memorial in Lodz. I won't write about it here, but I want to put it down so I don't forget to write about it later.

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Feeling beautiful because I'm wearing a purple tank top, and a necklace with many chunky red beads. Listening to the Indigo Girls as I walk - no, stride - around Warsaw, reveling in my legs, which seem tireless. I can walk so much farther now - doing six-hour walking tours on a regular basis will do that! And Warsaw is so flat, compared to Prague.

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Warsaw was completely leveled after WWII. There were almost no buildings left at all. So what did the rebuilding committee do? They built the Old Town Square to look as though it had before the war. So the very center of Warsaw is essentially a bunch of 60 year old buildings that look as though they're 300 years old. It gives the place a slightly eerie feeling, kind of like Disney World. See, it looks like the olden times!

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Krakow. The Jewish community here was virtually nonexistent for a long time, but is reviving rapidly, thanks to a new Israeli rabbi. We join them for Shabbat dinner, and benching (singing thanks and grace) afterwards. Later, Ellen will say that she disapproves of his summer-camp style of leading, but I am so happy - so grateful - for the chance to sing familiar songs. Singing loudly, hands beating time next to Yiddish-speaking altercockers, filling the room with the sound of loud Jews. Loud Jews - what a blessing, in the middle of this graveyard.