Before taking the train to Miskolc on Friday night, dad & I went for dinner at a little restaurant across from the apartment we rented during our stay in Krakow. At one point a woman seated at a nearby table came up to talk to us: she was visiting from England, and had seen us at Auschwitz on Wednesday. She had seen how deeply moved I had been - I won't minimize my reaction, I wept openly several times at the camp - and said she hadn't been able to get me out of her mind. She had called her sister in England that evening to share her experience. Seeing us at the restaurant, she felt compelled to come and say hello and talk a bit about the experience ... so I shared some of our family history, explained how we'd been on the trail of my grandmother for the past 10 days. She told us that her teenage son had asked, incredulously, after visiting the camp, "but why?" and, of course, she and her husband had no answer ...
A few days earlier, when we took the train from Torun to Krakow we shared a compartment with a woman returning home to Krakow. She was very interested in knowing more about our experience, our history, our impressions of Poland, and we learned a great deal from her as well. At first I was a bit reserved about sharing the purpose of our trip (it seemed to be imposing a tough topic on what could otherwise be pleasant chit-chat), but dad told her very honestly what we were doing in Poland; she was very interested, very well-informed, and we had an enjoyable, fascinating and candid conversation for a good 4 hours on the train.
So, in some way, our presence here has made a small difference, I suppose ... it has been important for us, of course, to help piece together the fragmented pieces of our family history, to put our ancestors to rest, and to help us move on. But I feel that we've left a legacy, even if a small one - that we've given a personal connection, a human face, to this story.
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Today we visited Eger, a beautiful little town in the hills near Miskolc, where
my great-aunt (the one who survived Auschwitz & Buchenwald) was born. Eger is famous throughout Hungary as the place where the Turks were finally defeated. The town is very well preserved and is a real jewel of a place. We enjoyed walking its charming narrow streets, climbing up to the remains of the fort, having lunch on a beautiful plaza (it was an unseasonably warm day, so we comfortably ate outside), buying some local wares, and generally enjoying life and the beauty of this place. We have seen the remains of horrible things on this trip, but have also experienced great beauty, joy and celebration of life.
Miskolc itself is nothing spectacular, in stark contrast to Eger - there are many old buildings (maybe 150-250 years old) that once were beautiful but are now run-down, unkempt, with crumbling facades, graffiti, broken windows. The old Soviet-style apartment blocks are also generally in bad shape. Everywhere we find places and spaces that feel unwelcoming - deserted dark alleys, long stretches of blank buildings, dirty streets, and the ubiquitous graffiti ... there is a feeling of lack of care. It's a good lesson in urban design gone wrong ... we visited the house where my dad grew up - his aunt & uncle's house - and were greeted by large, vicious dogs barking at us while hurling themselves at the high fence surrounding the house. The most pleasant place we've found is a new mall, a very lovely outdoor square, and the surprisingly high-quality hotel.
Tomorrow we visit Miskolc's synagogue, hopefully to talk to someone there and learn a bit more about what happened to this city's Jewish community after the war ... after that we leave for Budapest, and return home a few days later. We're both looking forward to enjoying our final few days here, relaxing, seeing the sights, discovering the best coffee houses, visiting a museum or two, and generally enjoying life once again.
A few days earlier, when we took the train from Torun to Krakow we shared a compartment with a woman returning home to Krakow. She was very interested in knowing more about our experience, our history, our impressions of Poland, and we learned a great deal from her as well. At first I was a bit reserved about sharing the purpose of our trip (it seemed to be imposing a tough topic on what could otherwise be pleasant chit-chat), but dad told her very honestly what we were doing in Poland; she was very interested, very well-informed, and we had an enjoyable, fascinating and candid conversation for a good 4 hours on the train.
So, in some way, our presence here has made a small difference, I suppose ... it has been important for us, of course, to help piece together the fragmented pieces of our family history, to put our ancestors to rest, and to help us move on. But I feel that we've left a legacy, even if a small one - that we've given a personal connection, a human face, to this story.
----
Today we visited Eger, a beautiful little town in the hills near Miskolc, where
my great-aunt (the one who survived Auschwitz & Buchenwald) was born. Eger is famous throughout Hungary as the place where the Turks were finally defeated. The town is very well preserved and is a real jewel of a place. We enjoyed walking its charming narrow streets, climbing up to the remains of the fort, having lunch on a beautiful plaza (it was an unseasonably warm day, so we comfortably ate outside), buying some local wares, and generally enjoying life and the beauty of this place. We have seen the remains of horrible things on this trip, but have also experienced great beauty, joy and celebration of life.Miskolc itself is nothing spectacular, in stark contrast to Eger - there are many old buildings (maybe 150-250 years old) that once were beautiful but are now run-down, unkempt, with crumbling facades, graffiti, broken windows. The old Soviet-style apartment blocks are also generally in bad shape. Everywhere we find places and spaces that feel unwelcoming - deserted dark alleys, long stretches of blank buildings, dirty streets, and the ubiquitous graffiti ... there is a feeling of lack of care. It's a good lesson in urban design gone wrong ... we visited the house where my dad grew up - his aunt & uncle's house - and were greeted by large, vicious dogs barking at us while hurling themselves at the high fence surrounding the house. The most pleasant place we've found is a new mall, a very lovely outdoor square, and the surprisingly high-quality hotel.
Tomorrow we visit Miskolc's synagogue, hopefully to talk to someone there and learn a bit more about what happened to this city's Jewish community after the war ... after that we leave for Budapest, and return home a few days later. We're both looking forward to enjoying our final few days here, relaxing, seeing the sights, discovering the best coffee houses, visiting a museum or two, and generally enjoying life once again.
1 comment:
I like your characterization of the central dichotomy here: preserving the evidence of evil to bear witness vs moving on and celebrating the good that clearly exists in the world, and how to strike an appropriate balance. The madness that led to the mass exterminations in the places you've visited is never far from the surface as the Rwandans know. And we trod that perilous path here in BC with the unpardonable treatment of the Japanese Canadians after Pearl Harbour. I think I have an inkling of your feelings from when I visited New Denver in the Interior, which for me was compounded by a weird feeling of the whole thing being somehow my fault (the opposite of survivor's guilt, perhaps?) Anyway, thanks for sharing your extremely well written thoughts on this highly personal trip, a great mitzvah as another poster noted.
Your friend,
Andrea
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