Darlene Feldstein

August 29, 2008

Congregation Beth Am’s Trip: From Poland to Israel

            Early this year I learned of Beth Am’s congregational trip to Poland and Israel set for early April. The trip to Poland would include visits to 3 concentration camps: Maidanek, Auschwitz-Birkenau, and Treblinka. Additionally, we would walk through the Warsaw ghetto, and visit the forest where 2,000 Poles and 8,000 Jews, including hundreds of children, were shot to death. In preparation for the trip, we would divide into smaller groups to prepare to lead a memorial service at each of these 5 sites to remember the murdered. Sounded pretty depressing!

            Why choose to go on such a trip? It certainly wouldn’t be “a relaxing vacation”. Numerous friends told me that they wouldn’t, or couldn’t go to concentration camps. They explained that for them, there was too much sadness, years of silence regarding personal family history, visceral pain. On the other hand, friends and acquaintances who had visited the camps said it was deeply moving. As an educator at Gunn High School , I have participated with teachers and students in Facing History Holocaust classes with discussions regarding Jews living in Nazi Germany. I have read many books about the Holocaust. I’ve heard Ellie Wiesel speak of his personal experiences. But, my knowledge was purely academic. None of my family members, nor my husband’s family had experienced the Holocaust. I had never been to Germany or Poland . So, as a Jew, and educator, I wanted to go to the “primary sources”– the concentration camps and other sites in Poland to see the places where these relatively recent events happened. A mere 65 years ago–within living memory– 6 million Jews were murdered. At the very least, I hoped to gain insights about genocide prevention.

            So, we signed up for the trip, participated in multiple pre-trip gatherings, led by our guides, Orna, Gabi, and Rabbis Marder, and then found ourselves landing in Warsaw’s airport. Throughout the trip, I was struck by the fact that the Polish shtetls, villages and cities we visited, once teeming with Jews, had virtually no Jews remaining. All the old, once filled synagogues in Krakow were now museums­–holy places without native congregants. I hadn’t realized that for hundreds of years, Poland was home to so many Jews.

            Why did so many Jews live in Poland ? On this trip, I learned that during the 15^th century, Poland became the home to Europe's largest Jewish population, as royal edicts guaranteeing Jewish safety and religious freedom, issued during the 13th century, and enforced over the ensuing centuries, contrasted with bouts of persecution in Western Europe . The Jews of Poland played an important part in the economic life of the country. They enjoyed unprecedented economic and social freedom in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when Jewish culture and scholarship flourished. The first formal yeshiva in Eastern Europe was founded in Krakow . Students from throughout Europe went there to study. From the mid-seventeenth century, most rabbis in Germany and Central Europe came originally from Poland . Nevertheless, this great Polish Jewry, numbering more than 3,000,000 in 1939, was almost entirely annihilated in the Holocaust. Those who survived, mostly did so by taking refuge in the USSR . Ironically, the Jews who were sentenced to prison in Siberia by the Russians had the best chance of surviving the war years.

            We also learned that Poland was the only European country whose government was abolished and supplanted by a Nazi governor. All other European countries retained their own governments although often run by Nazi collaborators. After the war, Poland was basically controlled by the Soviet Union for decades. Poland did not gain independence from Communist rule and become a democracy, until just 19 years ago. It also was an eye-opener to learn that, of all the countries involved in the war, Poland lost the highest percentage of its citizens: over six million perished, half of them Polish Jews. Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial in Israel , lists more Righteous Gentiles, (non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust) from Poland than from any other country.

            The first concentration camp we visited was Maidanek, established by the Nazis in 1941 as an extermination center for Poles and especially for Jews. The barbed wire surrounding the complex does not block from view the main road and bustling city within walking distance from the camp. I was shocked because I had envisioned camps hidden in forests, far from the public’s view. I thought about how the residents of the neighboring city, Lublin , could see, hear, and smell the violence and carnage at Maidanek. One barrack housing 800,000 shoes found at the site silenced our group. I wondered, were there protests? Did people from the city speak out against the brutality and murders, knowing that such action would result in the Nazis sending them there, too?

            Every member of our group was moved by the work of Vitek, our Polish guide in Lublin , who is a 30-something actor and storyteller. A non-Jew, he has worked with a few friends for years to restore the Jewish quarter, renovate its old buildings, and establish a theater and museum of Jewish life, aided by funds privately raised, and also provided from the municipality of Lublin . Visiting the theatre where Vitek performs, I was reminded of the incredible educational power of art, theatre and film. In the 1980s, Poles saw a nationally televised special showing of Fiddler on the Roof that kindled a new generation’s interest in their former Jewish history. More recently, famous movie director Steven Spielberg went to Krakow , Poland to film Academy award-winning Schindler’s List. It was surprising to see endearing Klezmer figurines in the local shops, and city-signs marking Spielberg’s filming sites. I flashed on the thought that perhaps schools should encourage more movie-making if Fiddler on the Roof and Schindlers List could have such a hugely positive impact on the young Polish attitudes about Jews, many of whom have never even met a Jew. A desire to learn more about Jews and Judaism was palpable among the University students we met in Krakow . The students generously offered to spend time guiding us around. They showed us sites, explained the history, answered questions, and genuinely enjoyed just talking to the group of Beth Am Jews visiting Krakow .

            The young students, and an American born Polish University professor spoke of a revival of interest among young Polish people in the lives of the 3 million Jews who contributed significantly to Poland prior to WWII. Krakow holds an annual “Jewish” festival attended by 10,000 young people, virtually all non-Jews. This celebration of Jewish culture includes some of Europe ’s best Klezmer musicians, dancing, Jewish foods, and vendors of Jewish art. We were told that this is a very popular annual event in Krakow . I struggle to understand this interest and focus on Jews by young, non-Jewish Poles. Do they regret the great loss of the intelligentsia, professionals, merchants and cultural riches born of a diverse ethnic citizenship, or do they romanticize Jewish culture because they have few or no interactions with Jews, or are they intrigued by their association with Jews in so much popular cinema and are searching for positive ways to re-establish a relationship? Certainly the attitudes of young Poles towards Jews and Judaism are complex.           

            The day we toured Auschwitz was bitterly cold, even though we wore parkas, scarves, and gloves. It was hard to conceive that prisoners wore thin pajamas. I imagined a 13-year-old Ellie Wiesel arriving on a train from Hungary . He lost his mother to the gas chamber the day his family arrived, and his father some time later. It was hard to speak as we walked through the enormous camp, heard stories and imagined the feelings and murders of so many men, women, and children. Pictures, brought from home by the prisoners, from earlier, happier days, filled a large room of one of the buildings that had contained disinfectant showers, later preserved for the public to witness.  As the cold air and stories chilled me to the bone, I gave thanks that I was not born in Europe , a mere decade earlier than my birthdate.

            Our visit to Auschwitz during the day was in stark contrast to our visit that evening to a vibrant progressive synagogue—the first reform synagogue in Poland -- of about 200 members­ ­–mostly young and under age 30– searching for or affirming their Jewish identity. Their enthusiasm and dedication to rebuilding Jewish community was inspirational.  They shared their excitement about the community and spirituality they have found, and they were optimistic that others with Jewish ancestry would join the nearly 5,000 officially registered Polish Jews. I was deeply inspired by their monumental efforts to rebuild Jewish community, so close to Auschwitz .

             After a week of such intensely moving, unforgettable experiences with fellow Beth Am members traveling through Poland , a plane carried us from Warsaw to Tel Aviv. Our guides had arranged meetings with some of the diverse people of Israel, including a Druze who shared his pride at being a soldier in the Israeli army, a Yemenite Jew whose profession was writing Torah scrolls, scientists developing Solar power in the Negev which could power Israel’s future, Bedouin Arabs who created a delicious dinner for us with music and stories about their nomadic lifestyle, and several Israeli academics who explained attitude changes in Israel toward Israeli Holocaust survivors, the complex Israeli political scene, and contemporary Israeli film. The warm climate, diverse cultures and excellent “ California style” Mediterranean food of Israel stood in stark contrast to the bone-chilling weather, fair-skinned citizens, and winter-appropriate Polish cuisine.

            Our plane returned us to SF where everyone in our group began the process of unpacking our complex emotional responses to experiences on our trip, from Poland to Israel .

            The mid-April day following our return, I went back to work at Gunn High School, where students were wearing buttons that said, “Hate–Not in Our School” as part of a weeklong program to promote tolerance and celebrate diversity. There were discussions led by student leaders about personal prejudices, discrimination and exclusion. One activity involved students writing their prejudices on pieces of rice paper that they threw into a pool of water. The prejudice- inscribed rice paper dissolved, like bread in water during Tashlich on Rosh Hashanah.

            Our trip and its aftermath reminded me of the importance of speaking out against the use of hurtful words or deeds. My first day back from our trip, I wondered if anti-Semitism would have been as virulent in Europe before and during WWII if school-aged students and their teachers in 1938 had used school time to toss rice paper inscribed with personal prejudices into pools of water.

            I encourage all of you to consider joining the Beth Am staff and community on an educational trip. There are still a few spots available for the trip to Israel next spring.  I guarantee, the experience will challenge your thinking and strengthen your Jewish identity. Our group created a book, with photos and text, which documents the trip From Poland to Israel , and a copy has been donated to the Beth Am library. Check it out if you are considering a trip to Poland or Israel , and feel free to contact any of us who were on the trip–all our names are in the book– to raise any questions about our experiences.