Farewell Vilnius

Friday was our graduation from the Vilnius Yiddish Institute and our last day in Vilnius. We have grown attached to our friends, our apartment and the many cafes which we frequent as well as the wait staff whom we have gotten to know well. At one of the restaurants which we go to often, I was reading aloud to my companions from a book of Lithuanian folk tales. Our waitress listened in until she had to attend to other customers. The next time we were in she stopped by our table to see how the story ended. We learned a little of her story as well and Fran stopped back with a gift of a children’s book for her daughter. She was very surprised and touched and shared a picture of her daughter.

As yesterday was Shabbat we decided we should attend the synagogue before departing the city. We arrived at the synagogue where other congregants had gathered and greeted them with a Shabbat Shalom. They responded in Russian and Hebrew and that was the end of that conversation.

It is an orthodox synagogue where the women sit separately from the men. Women have two choices where they sit. There is an area on the ground floor cordoned off by curtains. Alternatively there is the balcony where one has a good view of the activities, but it feels very isolated from the proceedings below. It felt very exclusionary to both of us coming from a Reform Jewish background. We headed up the stairs to the balcony where we saw Ruta, the woman who had shown us around the synagogue earlier in the week. It felt like being greeted by a warm friend.

Once Shabbat starts you are not supposed to take photographs, but as we had arrived early, we had a short window for our usual picture taking. The cantor from the Fifth Avenue Synagogue in New York was the special guest. There is a Litvak conference beginning next week which is what brought him to Vilnius.

The service seemed somewhat incoherent to us. Several different people spoke or chanted, but with their back to the congregation most of the time. From the balcony I could easily count the number of people and saw 29 men and 14 women. I was curious as to what proportion of the men were elderly. My very scientific test determined that seventy percent of the men had grey hair. Finally the guest cantor went through the ritual of arranging his tallis. After the ritual prayer, he pulled it completely over his head, then he expertly flipped a portion on each side over his shoulder. It made me think of a bullfighter with his cape. He stood in the center of the synagogue facing the front and began to sing the prayers in a beautiful voice. Much of it seemed very foreign to us. I leafed through the prayer book with Russian on one side and Hebrew on the other. With my limited grasp of Russian I determined that the Hebrew was actually translated into Russian, not transliterated. Interestingly it was not in Lithuanian. I assume with an older congregation, Russian was their second language outside of Yiddish. I was pleased when I found the Sh’ma in the prayer book. Of the prayers, the only ones I recognized were the Sh’ma, the Kiddish and the Kaddish. There was no blessing of the Sabbath lights, most likely because a woman usually performs that ritual.

We had heard that the service would be about 45 minutes, leaving us time to attend the alternative Shabbat Tish ( a gathering at one of our classmate’s apartment). After about an hour, we decided to quietly exit and go on our way. I was grateful for the anonymity of being in the balcony to facilitate our departure. However, we were surprised to discover that the gate which was locked from the outside for security was also locked from the inside. Luckily the service soon concluded and we were released.

We found our friend’s location and joined the party in progress. We always find it interesting to see the apartments of other students. While smaller than ours it seemed more modern and very comfortable. It was a festive and friendly atmosphere and a little bit sad as we thought about how we would soon be leaving our friends. We had missed the lighting of the Shabbat candles, but a beautiful array had been created and was still burning brightly.

It was a very poignant ending to a wonderful experience. We hugged our friends goodbye with promises to stay connected and meet again in the future.
We walked down our familiar streets one last time and I took a picture of each of the five streets that radiate out from in front of our apartment.

More Stories

Yesterday we saw a very moving film called “Surviving History.” The documentary presented the interviews of seven Lithuanian survivors. It was a wrenching film to watch as it told once again the horrors we have heard about over this past month through the eyes of those who lived them. Two of those interviewed were people we have met and spoken with in Vilnius.

One woman talked about how her husband left the ghetto and was presumed to be ambushed as he never arrived at his destination. He had asked that she go with a second group leaving the ghetto, but it would have required her to leave her son behind with his grandparents. She had moments to decide whether to stay or go. She ultimately left and eight days later the ghetto was liquidated. When asked what she would do if she had to do it over again she replied that she would have stayed as her decision has tortured her all of her life.

An elderly blind man living alone noted that his happiest years were driving a taxi and interacting with other people. Now he has too much time and is burdened by sad and negative thoughts. He recounted horrible memories about how Jews were forced to build a pit after constructing a warehouse for the Germans and then buried alive in it. He spends his days at the synagogue where he “goes because he must.” We were especially touched by the images of the men praying in the synagogue as we had just visited there the previous day.

Another recounted how her father went to the attic to act as a lookout sending the rest of the family to the basement. Her mother remained upstairs in fear that her cough would betray their hiding position. From the basement she heard the Germans searching the home and killing her parents. In each case memories continued to torment these survivors only intensifying in the solitude of old age. It was explained that these elderly people have stayed in Vilnius be close to and honor those they had lost so long ago.

The interviews with these survivors were juxtaposed with a Neo-Nazi march in Vilnius that occurred in March 2009. It was chilling to watch young people shouting “No Jews” and “Lithuania for Lithuanians” knowing the historical context. We later heard that the Minister of the Interior described them as patriots expressing their love for Lithuania. This resulted in an outcry from the Jewish community and some backpedaling by the Minister when the Lithuanian President was pressured to react to his remarks. The film ended with an interview with Fania, the former partisan who has led many of the Yiddish tours. It spoke of her experience as a partisan, an appropriate segue for our next experience, a tour of the partisan bunkers in the forest. You can find information on the film at http://www.livingimprint.org/survivinghistory/index.html

Following the film we met up with Fania who accompanied us on an hour bus ride to an area 40 kilometers out of Vilnius. After she escaped from the ghetto, she covered this distance on foot over two days accompanied by another woman. This occurred just days before the ghetto was liquidated. She recounted how they lost their way and went to a village where a woman gave them milk and led them to the village which they were seeking. A Pole asked where they were going and they replied they were going to dig potatoes at an aunt’s home. He then told them that a partisan girl had been shot the day before. They replied, “What does this have to do with us? We are just going to dig potatoes.” He took them to a place to stay and the next day showed them where to find the partisans. They were very afraid as they didn’t know if they could trust this stranger. In the morning he came with milk and black bread as well as long sticks to support them as they had to walk through a very swampy area. He led them on a branch way built by Napoleon’s army in 1812. After clearing a checkpoint they were brought to the commander of the partisans. It was at this time that they learned that the ghetto had been liquidated. In this unit of the partisans there were 107 people of which all but 10 were Jewish.

She described how they lived in structures built of tree branches (Sukkot) in warmer weather and underground bunkers when it got colder. We were able to observe several of the bunkers that still remain. Many of them were reinforced by concrete that was later added by the Soviets. They were only constructed with wood when they were there.

The Soviets dropped weapons to the partisan group by parachute and they used the parachutes to make clothing. All of the clothing was white as that was the color of the parachutes. There was one tailor there who did all the sewing and according to Fania he fit them quite well. They boiled their clothes to avoid lice.

She described an incident when they went to an area where they thought guns were being dropped by parachute. When they arrived in the area they realized that what they thought was a parachute was actually the moon. Another time they went to an area expecting to find guns and they found cookies which they promptly ate. They later learned that each cookie was a part of a code they were supposed to read.

They had an old gramophone with two scratched records. Those returning from their missions had the privilege of listening first. One record was Blue Rhapsody. Three weeks after arriving in the partisan camp, Fania went on her first mission with twelve men and two women. Their mission was to cut German telephone connections between their bases. Other missions involved blowing up the railroad tracks.

There was a dentist from Vilna who provided care to nearby villages. He also stopped at the partisan base to care for them as well. A third year medical student acted as the doctor. Fania recounted how she had an operation while she was in the forest when she became quite ill. They didn’t have a lot of vitamins so they made tea from pine needles which provided vitamin C. They ate cornmeal mixed into a paste. The older women did the cooking over bonfires.

They returned to Vilna shortly before the end of the war. By the river they saw Germans fleeing. They observed people stealing shoes from the feet of dead German and Russian soldiers.

We learned that there had been a museum on this site after the war. While the Soviets memorialized the partisans they framed it as “Soviet resistance,” not Jewish partisans. After Independence the museum was dismantled; there is no memorial on this site today. Farmers have taken much of the wood to burn and evidence of people drinking inside the bunkers was evident. This was a remarkable visit which gave us a much more accurate sense of what partisan life was like; however, as the site continues to deteriorate one wonders how much longer it will be identifiable and honored.

Storytelling

Storytelling has been a constant theme of our travels here in Lithuania. We read stories in our Yiddish classes, we hear stories from survivors and we share stories with our classmates of visits to family shtetls. This morning we eagerly awaited the report from one of our new friends about her visit the prior day to Vaskai (Vashky), her family shtetl. We got our first rendition in our Yiddish class where our teacher encourages us to report in Yiddish about our previous day’s activities. While I grasped the broad outline I caught up with our friend after class to ask for the more understandable English version.

She had been accompanied by a guide who facilitated interviews with older residents of the village. She told us of how they had spoken with an old woman who said she remembered the Jews. She pointed out homes where they used to live. The Jews were shopkeepers so had homes with windows that faced the street.

The woman described how during World War II the Jewish men were taken to the cemetery and shot. She heard their screams. She said she was sad about this because they were their neighbors. The women, children and elderly were later locked in a barn for three days prior to being shot as well.

They also spoke with a young priest, around 30 years old. They asked him about the Holocaust and he replied “that was a long time ago and we don’t think about it.” The older people who we have spoken with in former shtetls seem very forthcoming as if they want to talk about their memories. For the younger people it has no relevance.

Tonight for dinner we went back to a nearby restaurant where we have enjoyed several meals. A friend of ours had an intriguing discussion with the owner and we were interested in learning more. After dinner the owner sat down at our table and visited with us.

We spoke about the history of this area in which she had a particular interest. As a non-Lithuanian European she seemed more curious and open to exploring the historical events that occurred here. This contrasted with the continual denial or indifference that we have observed among many native Lithuanians. She recounted that in her discussions with friends many of them say they didn’t know about what had happened here to the Jews. Their new knowledge has prompted many complicated political discussions.

She then related a poignant story of a very elderly man who stood outside staring at the restaurant. When he entered, he asked if he could sit down in one of the rooms. As he sat there he looked quite distressed. Out of concern she asked if he was all right. He responded that this was once his bedroom. He had lived there with his mother and siblings during the time of the ghetto. When he left he said that he would not be back again.

She then related that there had been a network of catacomb tunnels prior to the Jews living there. Along with those tunnels, the Jews created additional ones during the time of the ghetto. These were used as escape routes and most probably to bring in supplies into the ghetto.

When they were renovating the building they discovered a tunnel that ran under it. She had been told that there had been a tunnel from the synagogue which was behind her building leading to the perimeter of the ghetto gates. It is believed that the tunnel under her restaurant, although boarded up a short distance away, does in fact tie to the tunnel out of the ghetto. They discovered a chute to a lower level. They later learned that this was used as a way for children to access a lower level where they were hidden for safety. When we finished our meal, she invited us to see the area of the tunnel. We walked through and outside the kitchen to an area behind the restaurant. This had once been the site of the biggest synagogue where churches loomed above. We wondered what ghetto atrocities the church clergy had observed as bystanders from these vantage points.

The owner indicated that four small market streets had previously existed in the courtyard behind the synagogue. She then pointed out where the tunnel began and where it led. As we walked back into the building she told us that she and her husband had done much of the renovation themselves. Many nights they were there quite late and strange things happened. They would see shadows of people that she thought were children. We didn’t find this hard to believe after living for a month with the ghosts of the city. As we said good night we told her that if she sees the ghosts she should say, “Shalom Aleichem” which means “Peace be upon you.”

Further Explorations

As we near the end of our time in Vilnius we are trying to squeeze in the remaining things we hoped to see. This morning we skipped one of our classes in order to see the synagogue which closes at 2:00. Early in our visit to Vilnius we saw it from the outside on a walking tour, but had not yet seen the inside.

The synagogue is behind a locked gate so we had to ring a bell to gain entrance. We thought we would just be looking around on our own, but were fortunate to have the assistance of a young woman who works at the synagogue. She happily told us the story of the synagogue. It had survived the war as it was used for storage for the former Jewish hospital across the street which had been converted to a German military facility. She pointed out the hospital and the windows which were in the shape of the tablets of the ten commandments, a common feature in Jewish buildings.

She talked about how some people went to Russia before WWII as they anticipated that their young daughters would be conscripted for forced labor. By taking this precaution, they survived the war and they subsequently returned to Vilnius. After the war the synagogue became a gathering point as survivors connected with each other to find out if family and friends had also survived. When they celebrated the High Holy Days the crowd overflowed into the streets and the police cordoned off the street. During the Soviet times they had a clandestine matzo bakery and a shochet (kosher butcher) hidden within the synagogue. We were able to peer into a closed off curtained area which contained the remnants of the matzo bakery. When the Soviets loosened up immigration, many families immigrated to other countries around the world.

The synagogue was quite striking in a Moorish style with dominant colors of blue and white. A large Star of David was at the top of the domed ceiling surrounded by clouds against a blue background. As an orthodox synagogue it had a separate area above for the women to sit.

This is the Choral Synagogue and has an area, now closed off, where the men and boys' choir once sang. We learned that this Friday, our last day in Vilnius, a noted cantor will be participating in the service which we plan to attend. We also observed that the Hebrew prayer book was translated into Russian.

They hold daily morning services as well as on Shabbat. They are able to obtain a minyan (10 men required in order to conduct services), but there is concern that as members age it will become increasingly difficult and services may become more infrequent.

While this is a concern for the Jewish community, we were encouraged to see signs of a younger generation’s involvement in Jewish life. Children's drawings were posted on a wall and on the way out of the synagogue we saw a young woman with a very young toddler wearing a yarmulke. There is also a thriving Jewish school as well as summer camps for the children in the community.

After our visit to the synagogue we walked to the market which is housed in a large building with an adjacent outdoor area. They sold a wide variety of products, including food, clothing and toiletries. We noted that some of the merchants were elderly women selling their meager produce to eke out a living.

We found a local restaurant that was out of the main tourist area. The menu was handwritten on a chalkboard, all in Lithuanian. We asked a waitress to translate each item and we ordered more typical Lithuanian fare. Everything we have eaten has been excellent, even this little café.

From there we headed to the train station to purchase our insurance for our trip to Belarus. We had to provide our passports and they checked to verify that we had visas before issuing the insurance.

On the way back, I stopped at the Tolerance Center to see the exhibits. While we had gone to the opening of the Bulgarian Jewish exhibit, we had not seen the rest of the museum’s offering. The Tolerance Center is impressive and had a large exhibit of drawings from Gerardas Badgonavicius, a Lithuanian artist who lived from 1901-1986. His drawings were of the synagogues and people prior to WWII and as such represented a historical view of communities prior to their destruction. Also contained in the Tolerance Center are some important artifacts from the Great Synagogue of Vilnius including the doors of the Aron Kodesh and a cartouche with the Ten Commandments. There was a sizeable art exhibit which included drawings by two artists who created artwork in the Vilna and Kovno ghettos.

We ended our day at one of our usual haunts for dinner. The restaurant began to fill up with college students as they are beginning to return for the start of a new school year. It feels a bit like a changing of the guard as we prepare to leave our program even as they begin anew.

Ahhhh!

Today we felt unburdened for the first time in weeks. We have been immersed in Holocaust history, hearing stories and visiting sites that evoke a wide range of emotions. This was one of the first days we breathed fresh air without the weight of history on our shoulders. We walked more freely and realized that we know our way around the city. There is a familiarity to it. As we wander through the city we find classmates and recognize places we’ve visited. We have less than a week left in this program and are already thinking how strange it will feel to leave our new routines and the camaraderie that has developed with our friends.

In addition to our friends we also recognize certain characters around town, Michael, the wandering Russian panhandler, the two lanky bleached blonde hookers and the young flower girl. In addition we have become regulars at several cafes to the point where the waiters know our order without any communication. Recently two of us were frequenting our favorite spot and the waiter came up and said, “Red wine, cappuccino” and then looked puzzled because “Fanta” hadn’t arrived yet. We enjoy trying new restaurants, sampling new foods and sharing our discoveries with our friends. They in turn introduce us to their favorites.

Despite the heaviness of these past weeks we have had some lighter moments in our classes. Our teacher has introduced us to several Yiddish songs. The most recent one is titled “Rent” (Dira Gelt). As we reread it, we realize that it sounds rather heavy, but it captures typical Jewish humor which makes light of a serious situation and has a lilting melody. The 1912 song translates to “Rent, my God, we have to pay the rent! The landlord comes with his cane: If we don’t pay the rent, he takes away our beds. The janitor comes and doffs his hat: If we don’t pay the rent, he hangs out an eviction notice. Why should we pay you rent, when the stove is broken and we have nothing to cook on?”

In addition to songs, we have read Goldahairela (Goldilocks) in Yiddish and learned such entertaining words as a schnei-mensche which is a snowman. We’ve continued the saga of Berela and Sarala and been introduced to Manny, Benny and Denny. These 1947 scenarios never fail to bring a smile to our face. As we’ve learned vocabulary we’ve stumbled across familiar words such as shlep (en), nosh (en), shmooz (en), tchokes and noodnik. For Fran the familiarity of the words conjures up warm memories of her family sitting around the kitchen table conversing with each other in Yiddish. While I grew up with less exposure to Yiddish, I too have some flashback moments when a familiar word takes me by surprise and triggers a memory.

In addition to the more serious content, our guides often offer us little gems. When we went to Kaunas, our guide told us of the “gefilte fish line” between Lithuanian and Polish Jews. Lithuanians like it salty and Poles like it sweet. She proceeded to tell us her recipe for preparing it using pike or carp and then adding onions, matzo meal, sliced carrots and red beets to the pot.

After three weeks we have learned a lot, but are still struggling to integrate the mechanics of this language. We by no means have achieved proficiency, but have a good grounding on which to build.

In getting to know our classmates better we have learned that everyone has come here for a different reason. Many are working on doctoral degrees with varying areas of focus such as research, literature and history. Others of us have more personal objectives such as artwork or creative writing, At the same time we are all finding that it expands our cultural awareness and for those of us who are Jewish, it brings us closer to our heritage. The one common element is that everyone here is a learner.



As our day ended we visited the train station to purchase our tickets for the next leg of our journey, our trip to my family shtetls in Belarus. The staff at the Institute wrote out our request in Lithuanian to assure we would get the correct tickets to Oshmyony, a small town west of Minsk and close to the shtetls. All went well except for the fact that we arrived after 6:00 PM, too late to purchase the required travel insurance to enter Belarus.
Despite having travel insurance from the States, Belarus requires its own insurance prior to letting anyone into the country. We were told by our guide that she knew of someone who didn’t have the insurance who was ejected from the train. We plan another trek to the train station later this week as being evicted from the train is an adventure we hope not to experience.

The Killing Fields

On the various walks and discussions about the ghetto we’ve frequently heard of Ponar (also known as Paneriai), the location where the Vilnius Jews had been taken to be murdered. Knowing that was our destination today was coupled with a sense of trepidation. There is a heaviness that we are experiencing because of the cumulative effect of both seeing and hearing details of unthinkable atrocities that occurred to Jewish people. We knew today we would see the place where these horrors occurred. As we write this and try to convey our feelings we looked around our apartment and realized that the very people who lived here were probably wrenched from this home and taken to the Ponar forest and killed. While it is difficult to write this and to realize that others may find this difficult to read, we feel a responsibility to communicate the facts of what occurred. We have met several amazing people here who routinely tell the story of the Jews of Vilna. They are all in their 80s and we often wonder how these stories will survive without their voices. We feel that our small part is to tell the story.

There had been three Jewish cemeteries in Vilnius, but two were destroyed during Soviet times. Today we visited the one remaining cemetery. We began our visit with a stop at the memorial tombstones for the Jewish partisans. The cemetery had tombstones written in both Russian and Hebrew text. Often both were on the same tombstone. Fania, our guide, showed us the memorials for the doctors and teachers who died in the ghetto. These people in particular played an important role in the life of the ghetto. The tomb of the Vilna Gaon, the famous rabbi of Vilna, was moved to this cemetery to a mausoleum. People from around the world come to this gravesite to pay tribute to his memory. In each of the six niches were piles of stones left by visitors to honor his memory.As we stood before it, a man approached and began to chant a prayer for the dead. As I listened to the beauty of the prayer, I was overwhelmed by emotion and tears welled up in my eyes.



The cemetery appeared to be very active. Many of the graves appeared well tended. People were coming to visit the cemetery carrying flowers while others were planting at the gravesites. We were surprised at the number of graves for those who had died post-war and even very recently.

We continued on to the outer wall of the cemetery where our guide pointed out a memorial that marked the spot of a mass burial site of 400 children. She proceeded to tell us how the Nazis had drained the blood from these children to use for their soldiers. Afterwards they threw the children’s bodies over the wall into the cemetery. This was ironic in two respects. The Nazis didn’t believe in mixing of Jews with Germans, yet used the Jewish blood to sustain their soldiers. It was also puzzling that they threw the bodies into the cemetery as so many had no burial place. We couldn’t conceive of human beings acting so inhumanely, especially to innocent children. A rabbi who is part of our group sang a prayer, El Malei Rachamim. Together we all recited the Kaddish, the prayer for the dead. Afterward we all stood silently absorbing the enormity of what happened in this spot.

Ponar still loomed ahead. A short drive outside of the city we arrived at a wooded area with a stone memorial. Upon entering we were once again presented with the controversy over how these events are described. A monument was built for the Jews in 1945 and was in Russian, Yiddish and Hebrew. The Soviets didn’t like it and destroyed it in 1952, rebuilding it to read that 100,000 Soviet citizens were killed by Fascists. The denial of their Jewishness as the reason for their murder felt like a second annihilation of the Jews. The Lithuanians had a different issue. Many Lithuanians were supportive of the Nazis and participated in the murders. After a fight, the language was amended to read “the Germans and their local helpers” around 1990. History is easily rewritten if there are no voices left to tell the true story.

People who were brought to Ponar were told that they were being taken to work in Kovno. Some brought sewing machines anticipating work. At first the people in the ghetto didn’t know what happened here. Finally a woman escaped and returned to the ghetto. When she told her story, people thought she was crazy until other people who had escaped corroborated what she told.

As we entered the forest we went by a grove of younger trees. Fania told us that after Independence in 1990, Jewish people from Vilnius began to move to Israel. When they left they planted a tree here.

We were then taken to the pit in which children were murdered. They identified it as such as they found children’s shoes, socks and toys. Usually children weren’t shot, but were thrown in. Newborn babies were also thrown in as women were not allowed to give birth in the ghetto.

People were undressed prior to their murder and their clothing sold. When the German’s were trying to cover their tracks they had a detail of Jews who were responsible for burning the bodies of the dead and crushing their bones. They first had to look for gold teeth or rings. One of the workers who burned bodies found his own mother, wife and children. He wrote notes about what he found and those are now in the museum. The workers used spoons and metal plates to dig a tunnel and escaped. Because the stench was horrible from what they were doing, they hid in manure in the fields so the dogs couldn’t follow their trail. The Germans offered a reward to anyone who found them and said they were dangerous criminals. Two of the men survived and gave testimony after the war. After the escape, no more bodies were burnt and the remaining bodies were found after the war.

At the end of the tour, Fania was asked how she can keep coming here and talking about what happened. Virtually all of her family perished at Ponar. She replied that she does it for those who lie here, since they can’t stand up and tell what happened. She is happy to speak Yiddish here as that was the language of those who died here.

Escape from the Ninth Fort

Our day today was devoted to a trip to Kaunas (formerly Kovno). About a third of our group (20 people) joined together to take this trip to the second largest Lithuanian city and former capital. On the way, one of our French friends recounted various stories of how Jewish children, she among them, had survived the war. Years later the former children and their families were invited to attend the trial of the key Nazi perpetrators who murdered their families in France. Part of her story was explaining how Serge Klarsfeld compiled the names and transports of French Jews to places such as Kaunas. We started our trip by meeting our guide who was born and raised there. She confirmed our suspicions that the museums would be closed as it was a major national (Catholic) holiday.

We began our tour at the Ninth Fort which was built to protect the city. It was used as a prison by the Soviets and as an execution point by the Nazis. Even before we reached the site we noticed a large irregularly shaped structure, the size of a tall building. It appeared to be wooden, but on closer examination we observed that it was made of stone. We were told that it was designed to resemble the weathered wood that we see on the outside of traditional Lithuanian houses. It was composed of three parts, representing the victims of the Germans in three poses, standing, falling and lying on the ground. The three parts were positioned so there was a triangular area in the center representing the gateway to heaven.

The sculpture was surrounded by a spacious very green area where many Jews were executed. We followed a path from the sculpture past the museum to the fort. We approached the fort in disappointment assuming it was closed as was the museum. To our surprise we saw a man exiting the building. We entered the courtyard and our guide engaged in an animated Lithuanian conversation with him. It proceeded to get louder. She turned to us and told us that he said there were already Jews in there and would not allow us to enter. We were confused by the communication and found it strange that he would frame it in that way. Our guide turned to us and said she had told him that we aren’t Jews, we are Americans. He then wanted a lot of money to let us in. While this heated conversation continued, we observed various tourists entering and exiting the building. Finally several of us pushed past and entered the building. The voices of the man and our guide continued to escalate. The man smelled of alcohol and was quite verbally abusive towards our guide until she threatened that we would report him to the American Embassy. That resulted in a definite change in tone. "No problem, no problem," he repeated.

It felt like a time warp, as if we were back in the 1940s faced with the same prejudices and ignorance that the Jews encountered at that time. The fact that this encounter occurred in the very site where 50,000 Jews were murdered, made this even more disturbing.

The building was used as a temporary holding point prior to executions in adjacent killing fields. If the Nazis didn’t complete their murder in a normal workday they held the Jews to murder the following day. We later learned that the Jews were forcibly marched from the ghetto to the fort where they were killed.

We learned that the impetus for the exhibit on the Jewish experience was prompted in 1995 by the indignation of an Israeli Knesset member who came and saw nothing about the Jews. His threat to engage the mass media about this resulted in the creation of this exhibit.

In the fort we saw displays of the artifacts of the Jews that were found in the killing fields and the messages written on the walls prior to their deaths.
We also saw rooms devoted to the French and German Jews who were shipped into Kovno for execution. While most Jews were held for just a day or two, a small group had a more extended stay. This group of prisoners was responsible for digging up the bodies of the corpses and then burning them because the Germans were losing the war and wanted to hide the evidence of their deeds. These prisoners staged a successful escape on Christmas Eve when their guards were off celebrating. We felt as if we were escaping as well as we exited the building.

We stopped at a building that had been one of the three most significant yeshivas in Lithuania. The young men who studied there came from many countries across Europe because of its reputation. When stopping at the memorial at the entrance to the Kovno ghetto we learned that the yeshiva students and teachers lived in that area as it was close to their school.

Kovno is known for its especially brutal murders by Lithuanians, many of whom were university students. The students marched into the ghetto and murdered 1000 people prior to the Nazis assuming control. The nearby yeshiva students were the first victims. In another Aktion the hospital, staff and patients were burned together when the doors were barred shut.

Before making an extended stop at the Choral Synagogue we walked around the city and learned about the Jewish history of the area. One of the facts that we found interesting was that prior to WWII, 74% of the physicians in Lithuania were Jewish. Ironically they were banned from practicing medicine in the Lithuanian hospitals so worked in the Jewish hospitals. We stopped at the Chorale synagogue which was quite beautiful. Its name comes from the fact that it had a choir of boys and men. It had a very famous cantor who also sang opera. It was not damaged during the war as it was used as a storehouse by the Germans for the clothing of Jews who they killed.

We had the opportunity to walk through the city with one of our classmates who is from Kaunas. She pointed out the faded lettering from a Jewish orphanage and a former synagogue which was now an auto repair shop. We asked her when she became aware of the former Lithuanian Jews and the Holocaust. She told us that she did not learn of it until she was a university student. She read a book by a Lithuanian Jew about the town where her family came from and wanted to know more. She had been unaware that Jews had made up almost half of the population of her city. Interestingly she is now studying Yiddish literature. Before our return to the city we did a brief stop at the former home of the Japanese diplomat Sugihara. Sugihara saved the lives of 6000 Jews by issuing visas against the express orders of his government. He was quoted as saying,"I may have disobeyed my government, but if I didn't, I would be disobeying God."

Our return to Vilnius ended on a lighter note as we helped one of our friends celebrate her birthday. We are feeling a strong connection to many of our new friends. Being thrown together as we fumble with the language and grapple with some very emotional topics is definitely a bonding experience.

Read more about the Ninth Fort 

Read more about the Kovno Ghetto

The Chilling Past

As we approach our last week in Vilnius many of us are feeling a bit overwhelmed with the historical immersion into the Holocaust. I still find it difficult to watch a movie about the Holocaust and for many years hesitated to dive into genealogy as I knew I would have to confront the role of the Holocaust in my own family history. When I did finally tackle that subject I had to steel myself to read the horrors in the Yizkor Books of the shtetls from which my family came.

It is a subject that we typically absorb in small doses. Here it is ever present around us. We feel a ghostlike presence when we look at the well-worn steps in places that once were Jewish institutions. We also feel it deeply in the negative space, the failure to recognize the 200,000 deaths as murders of Jews. Frequently genocide is discussed solely in terms of the Soviet occupation despite the fact that almost half the town was murdered by the Nazis. That half is no longer here to protest so their history is easily forgotten.

One of the places that seeks to preserve that history is the Vilna Gaon Jewish State Museum, also known as the Green House. Our visit to it yesterday was led by Rokhl Kostanian, its Deputy Director. She had also been our guide for the Vilna Ghetto Walk. We have also had some contact with the museum through an Austrian classmate who is working at the museum as part of the Gedenkdienst (Remembrance) Program, an important resource for the museum. In 1944-45 there was a Jewish Museum which was closed by the Soviets. It was started again in 1990. Announcements were put in newspapers to buy Jewish materials. All museums having Jewish articles were required to return them to the museum resulting in a collection of 6,000 artifacts.

The museum tells the history of the Jews in Vilna and the rich cultural community that existed prior to the war. It also tells the story of the Jewish partisans who fought the Nazis as well as life within the ghetto. Note that the use of the term partisan is also used in a totally different context when talking about Lithuanian partisans. The museum has maps that show the killing sites that dot the entire map of Lithuania as well as the routes by which Jews from France, Germany, Latvia and Austria were sent to Lithuania because the Lithuanian population was more cooperative with the Nazis.



Our guide told us that in Berlin there are plaques between the rails at the train station that cite the number of Jews who were deported to such places as Kaunas and murdered.

What was most horrifying were the words of the Nazis captured in their internal memos and the complicity of many in the local population. In today’s blog these words will speak for themselves.

In a memo from Jager, SS Standartenfuhrer it states, “On my instructions and orders the following executions were conducted by Lithuanian partisans.”After listing a number of actions it then provides a lengthy list of actions that were conducted in cooperation with Lithuanian partisans. A typical entry in the list that follows provides the date, the city and records the number murdered broken down by Jews, Jewesses and Jewish children. Occasionally the list includes gypsies, Communists and the mentally ill. One entry caught our attention as it recorded the death of 2,007 Jews, 2,920 Jewesses and 4,273 Jewish children. In parenthesis it notes “mopping up ghetto of superfluous Jews.”

At the end of the memo it states “Today I can confirm that our objective, to solve the Jewish problem for Lithuania, has been achieved by EK3. In Lithuania there are no more Jews, apart from Jewish workers and their families.

These total:
In Schaulen c. 4,500
In Kauen c. 15,000
In Wilna c. 15,000

I also intended to kill these Jewish workers plus their families but came against strong protests on the part of the civil administration (the Reichskommisar) and the Wehrmacht and instructions were issued that these Jews and their families were not to be executed.

It was only possible to achieve our objective of making Lithuania free of Jews by forming a raiding squad consisting of specially selected men led by SS-Obersturmfuhrer Hamann, who grasped my aims completely and understood the importance of ensuring cooperation with the Lithuanian partisans and the relevant civilian authorities.

The execution of such actions is first and foremost a matter of organization. The decision to clear each district of Jews systematically required a thorough preparation of each individual action and reconnaissance of the prevailing conditions in the district concerned. The Jews had to be assembled at one or several places. Depending on the number of Jews a place for graves had to be found and then the graves dug. The distance from the assembly point to the graves was on average 4 to 5 km. The Jews were transported in detachments of 500 to the execution area, with a distance of at least 2 km between them.

The following example, selected at random, demonstrates the difficulties and the acutely stressful nature of the work:

In Rokiskis 3,208 people had to be transported 4 ½ km before they could be liquidated. In order to get this work done within 24 hours, over 60 of the available Lithuanian partisans had to be detailed for cordon duty. The rest who had to be relieved constantly, carried out the work together with my men. Lorries are only very occasionally available for transporting the Jews. There were a number of escape attempts which were thwarted single-handedly by my men, whose own lives were at risk….The marching distance to and from each individual action totaled 160-200 km. It was only through the efficient use of time that it was possible to carry out up to five actions per week…

The actions in Kauen itself, where there was an adequate number of reasonably well-trained partisans available, were like parade ground shooting in comparison with the often enormous difficulties which had to be faced elsewhere. All the officers and men in my Kommando took an active part in the major actions in Kauen….

I consider the Jewish action more or less terminated as far as Einsatzkommando 3 is concerned. Those working Jews and Jewesses still available are needed urgently and I can envision that after winter this workforce will be required even more urgently. I am of the view that the sterilization programme of the male worker Jews should be started immediately so that reproduction is prevented. If despite sterilization a Jewess should become pregnant she will be liquidated.” Based on Ernest Klee, Willi Dressen and Volker Riess, The Good Old Days-New York 1991 & the Mass Murders in Lithuania, Document Collection, vol 1 Vilnius, 1965.

Ever write a self-evaluation for a performance review? Essentially that is what this was.

The role of the Lithuanian partisans is noted above, but the effort to engage them is stated even more directly in a document from Franz Stahlecker, SS Brigadier General and Major General of the Police. He apparently did his job so effectively that he was made Chief Commander of the SS. Here he states the following:

“It was the task of the Security Police to set these self-cleansing movements going…It was no less important to establish as unshakeable and provable facts for the future that it was the liberated population itself which took the most severe measures, on its own initiative, against the Bolshevik and Jewish enemy, without any German instruction being evident.

In Lithuania this was achieved for the first time by activating the partisans in Kovno…the leader of the partisan group…succeeded in starting a pogrom with the aid of instructions given to him by a small advance detachment operating in Kovno, in such a way that no German orders or instructions could be observed by outsiders. In the course of the first pogrom during the night of June 25/26, the Lithuanian partisans eliminated more than 1,500 Jews…During the nights that followed, 2,300 Jews were eliminated in the same way. ..It was obvious that only the first days after the Occupation would offer the opportunity for carrying out pogroms. After the disarmament of the partisans the self-cleansing Aktionen necessarily ceased.

The document goes on to state that German special units were assisted by partisan groups in Lithuania and parties of the Latvian Auxilary Police in Latvia. It notes that a large part of skilled trades were in Jewish hands and those Jewish craftsmen were indispensible at that time. It notes the resistance of the Civil Administration to large-scale executions and states, “This (resistance) was confronted in every case by pointing out that it was a matter of carrying out orders (involving) a basic principle.”

The detachment and rationality of these memos about cold blooded murder is chilling. In conversations with my classmates, we can’t help but wonder what it is in the make-up of a human being that allows such inhumanity and degradation. The ability of these people to compartmentalize and rationalize their job of murder while continuing to live a normal family life is incomprehensible to us. And it doesn’t end. We are told that anti-Semitism is on the rise again in this region of the world. We are amazed that such hatred against so few can still exist. We look around the world and see this inhumanity continue to play out in different forms around the globe while the rest of the world allows it to happen.

Stalking the Shtetl Stork

A mentsh trach un Got lacht.- Man thinks and God laughs. Edith Gordon (nee Ginsberg) Evelyn’s Grandmother

Today was the first day that we skipped our classes to go on an adventure. Evelyn, one of our friends and classmates, hired our guide Regina to accompany her to the shtetl from which her grandmother’s family came. She kindly invited Fran and me to accompany her.

Regina had hired a driver and the five of us squeezed into the car and started out towards Pilvishok.(in Lithuania known as Pilviskiai). As we began our trip Evelyn shared her family history. When she was in 10th grade she had an assignment to create a family tree. At the age of 15 she interviewed her grandmother and got information that went back to her great-great-great grandmother. Fran and I were quite envious as all genealogists wish they could go back in time to interview those long-gone relatives. In the 1990’s Evelyn transferred the information to a PC. Five PCs later, she pulled it up on her Blackberry as we sat in the car.

Regina asked us our Yiddish level and told us that she wanted to make sure we didn’t totally miss our Yiddish practice. She pulled out a Yiddish book about Lithuanian shtetls and villages and proceeded to read it aloud. After each sentence we haltingly tried to translate. We found that we could get the gist of the meaning with assistance from Regina. From the text we learned that between 1839 and 1855 they had a subscription program to Talmudic commentaries. Seventeen people contributed money to print the commentaries and have access to them; kind of a book of the month club. Regina pointed out that the population of Pilvishok was about 1300 at the turn of the century, but had dropped to around 700 before the war. The town experienced many hardships, especially a fire in 1887 which led to the immigration of many people. Despite hardships, the town found the resources to help the poor among them and create a library. They had a scholarly correspondence with St. Petersburg soliciting books for the library.

During the drive we were amazed to hear Regina answering the phone in various languages as she spoke with other shtetl shleppers. We passed through a beautiful area of lakes and orchards. We were especially fascinated by storks perched in high nests. They nest in the region then migrate all the way to Africa for the winter. We hoped to get a photo of them, but Regina assured us that we would find many of them in Pilvishok. She mentioned that the movie Defiance, based on a true story about partisans in Belarus, was actually filmed in this area.

When we approached Mariampole, Regina directed our driver towards a small Jewish cemetery that potentially contained tombstones of Evelyn’s family. She knew she had seen a Ginsberg (one of Evelyn’s family names) in the area. There we found a circle of tombstones, but no Ginsberg. The original cemetery had been destroyed by the Russians. The tombstones which had survived had been grouped in this small circle. As we walked around the circle Regina pointed out one tombstone and asked us what was unusual about it. Part of the inscription on the tombstone was an acrostic, similar to the one we had found in another shtetl visit. It consisted of a poem in which the first letter of each line spelled out the name of the deceased when read vertically. As we found none of Evelyn’s family names we continued onward.

Mariampole is a larger city and appeared to be prosperous. We learned that they do a big business brokering second-hand cars. They get them from Western Europe and sell them in Asia and Russia. Many Russian Asians are here as they are engaged in this business. In Mariampole we also found the former synagogue building with the ten commandments perched at the top now painted over.

We continued on towards Pilvishok. As we approached it we found a field full of the storks just as Regina had promised. While we were delighted to have found them, we bemoaned the fact that we were driving too fast to photograph them in their nests high above the buildings. When we entered the city we went over the Sesupe River. This river joins with the Pilve River at the junction of the town. We pulled over to a side street dotted with traditional wooden homes that were representative of a shtetl home.
Regina told us that unlike the yellow painted homes that we observed on our visit, shtetl homes were made of unpainted wood and were grey in appearance.

By now it was early afternoon so we stopped at a nearby restaurant. Regina directed us to order food that would be prepared while we visited the nearby cemetery. We ordered traditional Lithuanian fare of meat stuffed blinis, stuffed cabbage and herring and potatoes. Regina then gathered us together and offered umbrellas and jackets for what was now a rainy day. Evelyn had forewarned us that it is always cold and blustery when she visits any of her ancestral shtetls. We were hustled to an area next to the restaurant which contained a small commemorative cemetery. Again the original cemetery had been demolished and a handful of remaining tombstones gathered together in this area. As we entered the cemetery, Evelyn was drawn immediately to a particular tombstone. In large Hebrew letters, she clearly saw the name Ginsberg. She did a little happy dance and Regina joined her. Regina translated the tombstone and where the stone was worn she felt the letters with her fingers. It looked as if she was pulling the words out of the stones. She translated the Hebrew for us as “ A man of faith, his deeds were very good and complete, his name was known in glory for prayer. He was a reader (in synagogue) and took care of the house of prayer.” He died in 1931. Regina had a blessing which she read while Evelyn recited the name at the appropriate juncture and then proceeded to place a stone on the tombstone. We noted that other stones were already on the tombstone indicating someone else’s visit. We returned to our lunch thrilled with our discovery.

Afterward we went in search of the killing fields, a mass grave for the Jews who were murdered. We stopped when Regina saw an elderly man standing with his bicycle outside a convenience store. Regina asked him for directions and if there was a hotel in the town. She later noted that this question told us something about the size of the town as a hotel was an important indicator of its importance. Seeing that he was forthcoming she asked him additional questions about the Jewish community. She also asked him if I could record him and he agreed. The man told us he was born in 1922 so would have been 19 at the time the Germans invaded. He recalled that on the first day of the war (6/23/1941) there was a blitzkrieg at 4:00 AM. By 9:00 AM everything was leveled. The Russians who had occupied the town, retreated to the river. The bridge had been blown up and many drowned.

He remembered different Jewish families who had lived in town, Simberg(ai), Markson(ai) and Frismon(as). The Goldberg’s had a restaurant and the Neimark(as) family had the biggest shop. The Soviets later used the Neimark home for the shop for the collective farm. He recounted that when the Germans came they first killed the Communist youth. They then waited several months before killing everyone else.

The Jewish cemetery had been destroyed when the Soviets put a sewer system in during the 1960s as the pipes went through the cemetery. Afterwards they collected the remains and made the cemetery which we had visited. The synagogue had been next to the square and stood next to the shops. He remembered that the Jews used to “throw away their sins” in the Sesupe River on Rosh Hashanah (the ritual of Tashlich).

Following his directions we made our way towards the killing fields. Without obtaining these directions the typical visitor would have no idea where to look. It was only when we entered an empty field that we found two granite markers designating the site ahead. We walked through a field where we found a low fence and behind it a grove of trees. There we found a memorial that dated back to Soviet times. Regina translated it as “In this place in August 1941, Hitler’s Fascist and Lithuanian Bourgeois Nationalists ferociously killed 1000 people from Pilvishok. Let the memory of the victims of the fascism be eternal.” We noted that it made no mention of the fact that they were Jews. Interestingly it made note of the collaboration of the Lithuanian nationalists, something we have observed considerable denial about today.

Regina had brought a candle for Evelyn to light and together we haltingly said the Kaddish, the prayer for the dead. Our guide sensed that there was another site and discovered it down a path along the creek. There was a similar site and plaque in a nearby wooded area. Again we said the Kaddish.

As we celebrated our discoveries later over dinner we reveled in a successful and fascinating journey. The day was full of discovery and wonder, evoking a wide range of feelings from sadness to delight. We even found our elusive stork nest on our return trip.Regina’s energetic personality together with her knowledge and humor had added an important dimension to our experience.

Jewish Ghetto Walk

If we do not honor our past we lose our future. If we destroy our roots we cannot grow. Friedensreich Hundertwasser

Earlier in our time in Vilna we did a walk of pre-war Jewish Vilna. As we’ve noted Vilna was the prior name of Vilnius and we will refer to it by that name when talking about that earlier period. Yesterday we did a more focused walk within the Jewish Ghetto. Rokhl Kostanian, Deputy Director of the Vilna Gaon Jewish State Museum (“the Green House”) was our guide.

She started the walk on the street on which we live where there is a plaque with a map of the streets encompassed in the small ghetto. It speaks of how 11,000 Jews were rounded up in the small ghetto and taken to their death, primarily at Ponar (Paneriai). Across the street stands the Austrian Embassy in what used to be a prayer house. She noted that their Gedenkdienst Program enables the museum to carry out its work. You can read more about it in the posting titled Program Beginning. Young Austrians spend 14 months working at the museum as part of their required national service. Lithuanians don’t want to work on Holocaust issues, but the young people from Austria come without prejudice and become engaged in the topic.

She asked us if anyone had read the book From That Place and Time:A Memoir 1938-1947 by Lucy Davidowicz. Several of us had. The book is based on Lucy’s year working with YIVO in Vilna in 1938. She writes of the rich Jewish culture which existed at that time and the many friends she made during that year. She discussed the anti-Semitism that existed in Vilna prior to the war as well as the mounting fears of impending war. She returned to New York after a year and it was not until after the war that she learned the terrible fate of most of her Vilna friends. Her book provided a vivid picture of what Vilna was like before the war.

Our guide pointed out that most buildings at that time were only two stories. Since post-war development an additional story has been added to some structures. We arrived at the area in front of our building where we always observe tour groups stopping to take quaint pictures. Here she pointed out a circular brick configuration out of which five streets emanate like spokes from a wheel. The streets include Gaono and Stikliu which border our apartment building along with Zydu on which the main synagogue used to stand.

She shared with us that they had recently validated a census of the ghetto in which names are recorded as well as memories and photographs. In 1939 there were 58,000 Jews in Vilna. In addition Polish Jews began to come to Lithuania as Warsaw and Vilna had very close ties. About 10-15,000 Polish Jews were added to population and brought stories of war and atrocities that the Lithuanian Jews found difficult to believe. When the Germans attacked Lithuania in June 1941, there were 75,000 Jews. Before the Germans arrived the local neighbors began to attack the Jews in the street and in homes. When the ghetto was organized on 9/6/1941, the Jewish community was relieved, feeling that at least they’d be with their community in greater safety. Within the small ghetto area there had lived 3,500 Jews. When the ghetto was formed it more than doubled in size. People slept on staircases, under tables, on chairs and in the streets. The Germans required the Jewish community to pay a five million Ruble ransom. The German laws required first identification and then concentration of the Jews. Their objective was to use them for slave labor and ultimately annihilate them when their usefulness was exhausted.

The Germans required the formation of a Jewish Council (Judenrat) whose primary function was to provide Jews for slave labor. Most disturbing was the requirement of the Judenrat to provide a required number of people for deportation and execution. As the fate of those deported became known, increasingly difficult choices were made to save the young and send the sick and elderly to their death.

Prior to the formation of the ghetto Jews assembled at the synagogue where they were taken to work. Work was one way of staying alive so Jews who were working wanted identity papers. A pink certificate (schein) was issued if they were working and family members received a blue certificate.

As we walked by area buildings she pointed out those with only one window. She noted that the poor had one window and one door. They were often shopkeepers and would put what they had to sell in the window. A curtain would hang between the shop and the living area behind it. Those who were more affluent had two windows and could live on one side. When the ghetto was formed wooden walls were erected at the end of the street with barbed wire or dogs. Windows that faced outward were painted or boarded up.

We walked up Zydu (Jew) Street which is where the main synagogue once stood. In 1938 they were celebrating the 500 year anniversary of the synagogue. Now a school stands on the site, but there is a signboard with photographs and text about the synagogue. The synagogue by law couldn’t be higher than the churches so they dug down to get the necessary height. Jewish homes also couldn’t be higher than the Christian homes. The synagogue’s armored doors allowed the basement to serve as a hiding place during violent pograms. Next to the site is a statue to the Vilna Gaon, the famous rabbi for whom the area is named. About 15 years ago they got the old names of the streets back to regain a place in the memory of the city. Gaono and Zydu Streets were renamed at that time.

The smaller ghetto had only 6 weeks of existence. On 8/31/1941 the “Big Provocation” occurred. The German administration staged an event in which shots were fired at German soldiers. The Lithuanian police cried, “Jews have killed a German!” They then went house to house and assembled the Jews in front of what is now the Stikliu Hotel (and in front of our apartment). If they didn’t come, they were thrown out of windows. Half of them were taken to Ponar and killed. The others were taken to a prison in the center of the city. Six thousand Jews were held for three days in cells and in a courtyard without food, water or toilets. Some were half dead or crazed by the time they were taken to Ponar. The Germans had a saying that they didn’t waste bullets on children. Instead they often would throw them against a wall. All of this was done on the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. There were approximately 30 synagogues in the small ghetto which were organized by guild (the shoemaker’s synagogue, the dressmaker’s synagogue etc.) As they were praying at the time of the roundup, many were found in the pits wearing their prayer shawls.

Those who were necessary workers were taken to the bigger ghetto with their families. The Germans kept families together as they found that people worked more efficiently if they were with their families.

We walked down Zydu Street through the arch that once separated the small ghetto from the Christian areas onto Vilnius Street. Vilnius Street is divided in the center with cafes and bike paths today. Prior to the war it was divided with Jews on one side and the local German population on the other. The buildings on the German side appear as they had at that time while the Jewish side was destroyed and rebuilt.

A walk down Vilnius towards Rudninku Street took us into what had been the big ghetto. Our guide pointed out where ghetto workshops had been located as well as a Jewish bank. An engineer had a house in the area with a sewer through which 120 people escaped to the forest. We entered a courtyard through which there was the building in which the Judenrat met. The original Judenrat had 16 members. Eventually 10 of them were arrested and shot which didn’t exactly encourage participation. There were 30,000 people in the big ghetto. When the big ghetto was formed there was no notice. This was unlike Kovno where people were given a month notice. In the morning Lithuanian police came to each home and people were taken to the ghetto. Many family members were searching for each other in the resulting chaos. The first to extend help were the teachers and nurses, followed by the doctors. If one had an acquaintance in the area one went to live with them. Otherwise one fended for oneself. Sanitation was a big problem and a typical picture of a ghetto courtyard had excrement and potato peelings. The Judenrat contacted local peasants who took it away to fertilize fields. Children were organized into brigades to help the sanitary police. Typhus was a big concern and many efforts were focused on living a sanitary life. The Judenrat dealt with lodging, food, labor, health and child care. Finding adequate space was a huge issue and we later heard of 17 people living in three rooms. In addition there were the “selections” that the Germans enacted. The main issue was how to remain alive.

There were 3000 “scheins” issued which could have four people. These were “life” scheins which entitled one to live legally in the ghetto. One could have a husband, wife and two children. Imagine the dilemma of those with more than two children. People looked for a schein where there was room resulting in “marriages” between uncles and nieces and other such unorthodox combinations to save the lives of family members. Again there was the devilish problem of choosing one life over another. Songs were created about it and our guide told us the words of one of them. It translated to “I’m Tesha, a girl from Resha, I look for a father, to put into a schein”. The Nazis required the re-registration of scheins at the Judenrat. They announced it at night so people had to come at night to get their schein stamped. Bribes occurred to be put into a schein.

There were 12,000 people with yellow scheins and 20,000 people in the ghetto. The others; elderly, children and parents hid. Hiding became a major focus. They hid under floors, in cupboards and behind false walls. The safest place for a time was in bunkers under the toilets. Those with money had water and electricity in the bunker. Many people sat for hours waiting until it was safe when there were Aktions. People would go out of their minds because of lack of air and babies were smothered if they made a sound.

On the wall in Rudninku there is a map of the big ghetto. In the plaza in front of Rudninku there is a statue of Tsemakh Shabad and a child. Shabad was a doctor and one of the founders of YIVO. We went down Zemaitijos Street where we found two shops with Yiddish writing. One advertised Avrom’s Colonial Business, a store that is believed to have sold spices imported from the colonies. The other appeared to be a coal warehouse. On the dust of one of the window was written in Hebrew, “You were not killed. The nation of Israel lives”.

Also on that street was the space which had housed the ghetto library. The library was so popular that lines used to form there. Finally they began to have people make appointments to borrow books. The building is currently for sale for 500,000 Litas and the hope is to save the building for the Jewish community. We learned that in the same complex as the library was a prison and a sports area. A partisan arms depot was housed below. Our guide recounted a story of a man who wrapped his arm in a sling for a week so the Germans would get accustom to seeing him that way. He then hid parts of a dismantled revolver underneath it and brought it into the ghetto.

Across from the library we saw a Star of David engraved into a stone wall. While it was now an exterior wall, one could see the outline of the house that had stood next to the wall revealing that it was carved into an interior wall.

The walk was a very emotional one as it reminded us of the reality of what we have read of in books and seen in movies. We could see from the expressions on our classmates' faces that they were also moved by this experience.

We were especially struck by the impossible choices forced upon the Jews, a manipulation that was designed to break the human spirit. Despite those efforts, the Jewish community came together to maintain a community infrastructure of schools, libraries and hospitals to counter the daily assaults on the human spirit. We were also struck by how little evidence there was of the significant Jewish presence that had made up almost half of the city. Two Yiddish storefront signs, a few plaques and a sculpture were all that remained in this section of the city. Our guide recounted that in the course of renovations, Yiddish writing had been uncovered. It was only by chance that she saw it and asked that they preserve it. When she returned the following day, she found that it had been painted over. It was only through her persistence that the original signage was restored. The history of the Holocaust and the Jewish community is at serious risk of being obliterated.

Shtetls and Castles

We began our day with a bus trek accompanied by our guide Regina Kopilevich who previously had assisted me at the archives. On our way out of the city, she pointed out various sites within the city of Vilnius. We have spent most of our time in the old city and have not explored the more modern portion of the city on the other side of the river. She pointed out a sports stadium which the Soviets built on top of a Jewish cemetery. There was also a memorial to Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese ambassador during WWII, who saved over 6000 Jews by issuing exit visas against the orders of the Japanese government. During his time in Lithuania a young Jewish boy had invited him to share a Chanukah celebration with his family. Sugihara was touched by the close Jewish family as it reminded him of his Japanese family. The story underscored how humanizing another person dispels stereotypes and bridges differences, in this case resulting in life-saving actions.

Our guide pointed out various monuments ranging from Lithuanian mythological gods to statues at the entrances to the green bridge, the only remaining Soviet monuments. These massive sculptures are in the style of social realism and represent agriculture, industry, peace and youth.

Our initial destination was the shtetl of Olkenik (today Valikininkai). As we traveled our guide pointed out the wooded area where the Vilna partisans lived during WWII. While the area was not far from the city, she stressed the danger they encountered as they made their way to the woods. The female partisans acted as couriers and incurred this risk frequently as they went back and forth. The Germans hesitated to enter that area as it contained marshy wetlands.

Once again the paradoxical issue was raised that many Lithuanian perpetrators of atrocities were never held accountable for their actions, while partisans who were defending their lives are still being harassed by threats of prosecution. To this day, elderly former partisans will not return to their homeland because of these threats.

Our guide alerted us when we passed the cutoff to the shtetl Eishyshok which is memorialized at the U.S. Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC. There they have a very moving exhibit with photographs of those that were murdered there.

The stage was set as we approached our destination “shtetl” when a horse and wagon approached us. As we entered the village our guide described Jewish life in the community as well as significant structures such as the synagogue which sadly no longer exists. We then approached the town square where a used clothing market was in progress in front of the church. We learned that the Jewish community typically lived close to this site where they conducted business. We walked down one of the main streets lined with charming homes with lovely gardens. We wondered if these were typical of the homes at that time. As we walked we came upon a much older home which transported us back in time. We were told that it was at least 100 years old. Another home of that vintage resembled a log cabin. As part of the tour we were invited to see the interior of one of the homes. It felt somewhat primitive with a central kitchen alcove surrounded by a room on either side.

We also had the opportunity to see the old Jewish cemetery. We walked through the woods to arrive at the cemetery. As we walked through the woods our guide pointed out cranberries, chanterelles, strawberries and nettles on which the partisans survived. We arrived at a low fence which marked the perimeter of the cemetery. As it is no longer maintained it was overgrown with plants and moss. The ground was spongy and it was difficult to walk around the area because tombstones often lay on the ground. While one would ordinarily not walk on a gravesite, it was impossible to avoid this. While our guide acknowledged these concerns, she also noted that they would forgive us as they don’t get many visitors and would appreciate our presence. Regina searched for the oldest tombstone which dated back to the 1840s, the Napoleonic era. She read the markings on the gravestones to give us a flavor for members of the former community. One of the gravestones was particularly intriguing because it was written as an acrostic. A poem was written on the tombstone where the first letter of each line vertically spelled out the name of the deceased.

We then headed on to Trakai, the home of the Karaite. The Karaite came from the Crimea and were taken prisoner by Peter the Great in 1397. They subsequently served as royal guards. The Karaite language is based on Turkish. The current Lithuanian ambassador to Turkey is a Karaite woman who can communicate easily in that role as she speaks Karaite. The Karaite consider themselves Jewish and follow Jewish traditions, but do not include the Talmud in their beliefs.

In the 1800s Karaite leaders lobbied the Russian government to change the legal status of the group. As a result of that effort, the Tsarist government recognized them as being of Turkic, not Jewish origin, on equal legal footing with Crimean Tatars. This exempted them from many of the restrictions that were placed on Jews. This served them well during WWII when they appealed to the Nazis to exempt them from restrictions on Jews based on their legal standing in Russia. The Nazis ultimately agreed with this characterization and the Karaite community largely survived WWII. A few thousand remain in Eastern Europe and about 70 in the Trakai community. The head of the partisans in Vilnius, a Jew, operated under a Karaite identity which allowed him greater mobility in his efforts against the Nazis.

While in Trakai we visited the Kenesa which is their synagogue. We were greeted by the leader of the Karaite community who wore a fez. Kenesa means meeting place, the same derivation as Israel’s Knesset. The first Kenesa was built in the 15th century on the same site. It was destroyed in 1812 during the Napoleonic wars and rebuilt in 1820. When the last Hebrew speaker died, they shifted to a Latin based language for prayer.

Trakai is a town built on water complete with a castle.

The area has many lakes and had the feeling of a beach town. Sailboats dotted the water and families gathered to enjoy the beaches. While there we ate at one of the Karaite restaurants which served shish kebobs with lamb figuring prominently and kibinai, savory pastry rolls. The foods certainly bore a resemblance to Turkish food.

Another full day came to a close as we prepared to resume our classes the following day. We are at the halfway point in our program and are realizing that we still have a long list of places we would like to explore in Vilnius. The intensive language program often competes with the exploration of the area that is an equally important part of our experience. A friend made plans with our guide to visit the town from which her family came and we hope to accompany her later this week.

Conversation, Cats and Crosses

Today we decided to venture outside of Vilnius to Siauliai (formerly known as Shavel), the fourth largest city in Lithuania, a two and a half hour train ride away. Fran and I, together with our classmate Marna, left early this morning for our day’s journey. The prior day Marna and I had walked to the train station to purchase our tickets. We had asked for three seats together, but once on board we discovered that we were in two different compartments. As one compartment had open seats we all moved to there where Fran had already begun to engage in a conversation with two journalists from Moscow.

We found them to be very charming, intelligent and open. As they were very conversant in the political issues of the day, we had a fascinating conversation about the long lasting effects of the reunification of Germany and the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Our conversation covered the standard of living in Moscow, conflicts between various ethnic groups, the impact of the global economy, the Russian health care system and the challenges and risks of being a journalist there. We talked also about American politicians which evoked laughter at the mention of Sarah Palin and her latest comment that Obama’s recommended health care reforms were "downright evil." They kindly offered their assistance to Fran in helping her connect with her recently located relatives in Moscow. We traded contact information and will try to meet with them when they come to Vilnius before we all conclude our travels. Our discussion with them provided a good start to what proved to be an interesting day.

The friend that met them pointed us in the right direction to begin our day in Siauliai. Fran was particularly interested in this town because she knows people who came from there. As we walked towards the city center, the area seemed quite desolate and run down. We were wondering how we were going to spend seven hours there. We found the information center and soon got our bearings. Here we asked about visiting the old section of the town and were informed that there were no old buildings left. We later learned that during WWI 65% of the buildings were burned down as well as the city center. WWII resulted in 80% of the buildings being destroyed.

Our first destination was the Cat Museum, which we dubbed the Cat House. Our long trek took us past a large beautiful lake and the striking Chaim Frenkel House. We knew we had arrived when we found a house with stained glass cat windows. The Cat Museum was the life’s dream of a retired pharmacist who had a deep love of cats. We entered through a staircase with wrought iron cats and were greeted by the founder who sat at the entry desk and welcomed us in Lithuanian. Her cat Philomena came out to oversee her domain. It consisted of figurines, bookplates, international cat birthday cards, and artwork all around the theme of cats. After visiting several rooms of the museum, the founder motioned us down a smelly corridor to enter another room. In it we found a menagerie consisting of an albino python, owls, monkeys, birds, iguanas, crocodiles and a variety of rodents. We wondered if the rodents were dinner for the cat or the python. This ranks among one of the strangest museums I have ever encountered.

On the way back we returned to the Chaim Frenkel house and found the ubiquitous Saturday wedding party in front of it. After their departure, we entered and began our tour. Chaim Frenkel was a Jewish Russian immigrant who ran the major industries in town, a leather tanning business and shoe factory. The downstairs exhibit in this magnificently restored 1908 mansion described his successful life as a businessman, influential citizen and generous philanthropist. He and his family resided there until his death in 1920. It then converted to a Jewish School until 1940. The Germans occupied it during WWII as a hospital. That was followed by the Soviets. In recounting the history of the family, there was no mention of what happened to them during WWII leaving us to wonder about the fate of Chaim's son Jacob Frenkel. The museum had wonderful displays of household items and furnishings used during that period. It is also the current home for the local museum’s art collection from many periods including an Asian room with incredible Japanese woodcuts. We also found a collection of drawings of the Jewish community by the same artist we had admired at the Tolerance Center.

As we walked around Siauliai, we realized we had passed the synagogue (see photo) Mr. Frenkel had built as well as a hospital now converted into a university building. When we later began an internet search for more information, we stumbled across a link which recounted the story of Siauliau during the war:

Of the 8,000 Jews before WWII, only 500 of them survived. Many of the survivors were considered essential workers in the town’s main industry of leather tanning. In the above link, there is a first hand account about the brutal treatment of the Jews by first the Lithuanians and then the Germans. This is again another sad and wrenching story from the past.

We ended our visit to Siauliai with a taxi ride to The Hill of the Crosses.Here we came upon thousands of crosses of various sizes, styles and materials, all bedecked with yet more crosses. Crosses first began to appear on the hill in 1831 after the suppression of an uprising against Tsarist Russia. The number of crosses continued to grow until the Soviets hacked them down in 1961. When they continued to appear they bulldozed the site. Again they appeared and this time they bulldozed the site and poured sewage on it. Still they appeared and finally it was left in peace. Now it is a religious site for the general public and tourists, as well as bridal parties and families with newly baptized children. We observed grooms, surrounded by their wedding parties, planting crosses, followed by brides who then added personal small crosses to commemorate their significant day. It was quite impressive to walk among the millions of crosses at this site. We found one lone Star of David together with a cross which appeared to be a memorial to Auschwitz.

We then returned to the train station for our ride back to Vilnius delighted with the various discoveries of our day. Our initial concerns about how to spend the day had disappeared. Instead we found we had run out of time to visit the Bicycle Museum which we had passed along our trek. The town had required only a little exploration to uncover its many charms.