Preparing for Auschwitz
Israel>Germany>Krakau
Polish Krakau
I arrive in Warschau (I deliberately
use the German spelling).
The air-port is like dead.
I let myself be manipulated/cheated by a man,
who shows a certificate "official tourist information" and
claims,
that since this is All Saints' Day,
and all the people visit their graves,
there is no shuttle and that I have no choice but going with him by
taxi.
Gullible as I am, - and used to Israel's bus-less quietness on festivals
-
I didn't ask about a bus, (which - on my way back - cost only half
a Euro..)
and so I contributed the contribution of two of my penniless Israeli
friends
to the six children, my Polish driver claimed to support.
I was apprehensive of the 2 hour train travel to Krakov.
The trains, the trains to BirkenAU~~~~
One of the best essays I wrote at school, at the age of 12, was about
the Stuttgart train-station.
I cherished trains and train-stations.
Until I could no longer get rid of the image of those trains and their
tortured, tormented human freight...
An afternoon moon ("oh MOON, HOW DARE
YOU GO ON SHINING!") entered the one photo I took from
the train.
I cannot bear being in a country where I don't understand the language.
Hardly anyone I met in Krakov understood English and I felt as if
dumb.
But this feeling was appropriate - - there --- in Polish Krakov, in
Jewish Krakov.
Not the hotel, recommended to the participants, was my abode,
but a simple hostel in the old town hosted me warmly.
From my window I had the chance to glance into people's backyards:
I went to look for those participants who had already arrived.
I waited in the hotel.
I went to look for Ginni in some extraordinary restaurant.
In the end I went "home".
The next morning I came to join the tour to the salt-mines, proposed
for those who came early.
I had been given the money for things like that from two friends:
"So you can feel part of the group!"
But the "tourists" were gone already.
I wondered: "Am I not going
to be part of the group, after all?"
"Hard as she tries to be a
part, she is still the odd ball out."
A sentence from a channeling, done on my behalf without my quest,
years ago, came to my mind.
It was raining the whole day long.
This suited me well.
I entered 3 different churches during service.
I loved the wells.
I walked through the streets , imagining Shimik and Gusta and their
companions of the Jewish Resistance..
I hated the gigantic, abstruse sculptures.
And I marveled at the handshake of a king and a queen.
It commemorated some union between Poland and another country.
For me it symbolized the healing between man/woman.
And I watched a man as he unloaded fruits and vegetables and placed
them artisticly in his kiosk
How different Krakov looked the next day after our visit in the Ghetto
and before our departure to AUschwitz-BirkenAU
to the last step of
preparation: the Jewish Ghetto