Act III begins

My fifth and last Shabbat in Eastern Europe was quieter than the others, but definitely as strange and interesting. Unlike last week, when there were two different tour groups at Friday night services and another Saturday morning, this week, there were none. And, with most of the regular members on vacation or at summer camp, the synagogue was pretty empty. After services Friday night, I met another American traveler, Ari from Philadelphia. He was stopping by in Warsaw before he goes to study Yiddish in Vilna for a month. Friday night dinner was the same as last week, in the community center just next to the synagogue, but since there were no big groups this week, there were only a few people who spoke English. This included the Rabbi's daughter, Arianna, visiting from Israel, whom I also met.

Saturday morning, Arianna explained to Ari and me about some of the backgrounds of different people in the synagogue community. One black-hatter used to be a rock musician with long blonde hair, and another used to be a skinhead. No, I didn't make that up--you might remember reading about him and his wife a while back--it was a popular story online. Then we went to lunch next door, and I sat across from a woman named Shoshana whom I met last week. I only had a chance to talk other for a few minutes last week, so I told her that we would talk this week. Shoshana is a survivor, but she's hesitant to mention anything else beyond that. Instead, she likes to talk about the work she did as a translator when she was young (she speaks 10 languages!) and her thoughts on the other community members--including, in response to one woman who asked her why she was eating so much, "I wish I could be fat like her." After lunch, Shoshana took Ari and me on a walk towards her house so that she could hear more about us and tell us more stories about her. On the way there, we met an American couple looking for the synagogue. I showed them where it was--I guess that means that I had been settled in if I knew how to give directions! Anyway, at some point, Ari left, and I continued to walk with Shoshana. We passed a market where she shops, and she told me that her mother shopped there when Shoshana was a little girl--that was the first clue I had that she was born in Warsaw. Then we reached a main street, and before we crossed, she pointed towards a pre-war house down the road, and said, "This was where the Germans caught us." It was just pieces of stories like this that she would tell me--but she was wary to share any more. She wouldn't even say her last name. We ended up sitting on a bench and talking for hours--she's probably in her 80's, but she's very sharp and clearly well-educated. She told me that she would have liked to move to American or Israel after the war, but her mother, who also survived, was ill, and Shoshana was the only one to take care of her. She told me about the synagogue and the history of the community, as well as her experiences living as a Jewish woman in post-war Poland--since, unlike many of the other community members, Shoshana never rediscovered her Judaism, instead, she identified as Jewish for her whole life. She also mentioned that she's a member of a group of child survivors of the Holocaust--it turns out, the same group as the one that sponsored the conference my mom helped plan in Chicago last year! This year, the conference is in Warsaw, and it will be interesting to hear how it turns out.

After I said goodbye to Shoshana, I started walking down the street, away from where we were sitting. Less than a minute after I starting, a couple approached me and the woman asked me (in Polish) if I knew where a certain street was. I responded (in Polish) that I didn't know, and then the man said (in Hebrew) "Look! He's wearing a yarmulke!" I thought I was hearing things. I asked (in Hebrew), "You speak Hebrew?" and he responded, "Yes!" Well, I was thoroughly confused at this point. He asked if I lived in Warsaw, but I told him that I'm from Chicago. Then he told me that he and his wife are from Israel, and his wife mentioned that she learned Polish from her parents, both of whom were from Warsaw. Then everything made sense. I told them that I was sorry I couldn't help them find what they were looking for...but then I realized that I knew someone sitting on a nearby bench who would know--Shoshana! I pointed the couple in her direction and we said goodbye--but not before they gave me their phone number in Israel. I'm always amazed at what a small world it is, and how even on a random street in Warsaw, you can run into people just like you!

Anyway, this morning I arrived in Vienna, and like everyone says, it's a beautiful city! But, I have to say, I really do miss Poland. There was just something about it that made it feel very comfortable for me to be there. Since I've been here, I visited "Haus Der Musik," a museum of both the great musicians of Vienna (Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler, etc.) and sound/the science of sound. It was a really cool museum! And logical. That's one thing I don't miss from Poland. Tonight I went to a concert of Mozart and Strauss music, but it also featured different opera and dance songs by other composers. It was a lot of fun! Music really is the international language.