Day 9 & 10, ISRAEL, Tel Aviv and Departure, posted by Sharon Schwartz, Bonnie Seligson, and Mark Bello

Posted by Sharon Schwartz

It is 3:20 AM as I sit on the plane for our return home. I am reflecting on each and every moment we spent in Poland and Israel. It is bitter sweet—wanting to be back with my family yet wanting to remain in our Jewish homeland.

This was my third trip to Israel. Each time has been like it was the very first. I learned different things, went to different places, and loved it all over again. One of our last stops was at Independence Hall in Tel Aviv where the Declaration of Independence was delivered over radio and signed in 1948. We sat in a the very room where it all took place and listened to one of the most enthusiastic and passionate speakers I have ever heard. I hung onto each and every word he shared. For me, he brought together the entire trip. He captured exactly what the State of Israel is, and what we all must do to make sure it survives. It is our obligation and we must certainly make it our commitment to ensure this. (To see a video clip of the speech, click here)

Before our farewell dinner, several of us literally ran through the shook buying souvenir to bring back for our loved ones and even for ourselves. We had a ball as we tried to spend every last shekel!

From the depths of sadness and darkness in Poland, to the joy and brightness of Israel, it was a perfect trip. I am exhausted physically and emotionally, but I am exhilarated and on a high you can only et from being is Israel, experiencing first hand. I wish for everyone the opportunity I have been able to participate in. I am so very grateful.

Posted by Bonnie Seligson
I am sitting in the airport waiting to leave Israel. I will end my blog entries with a song:
If we had just gone to Poland....Dayenu
If we had just gone to Poland and then Jerusalem....Dayenu
If we had gone to Poland, Jerusalem and been with our Rabbi....Dayenu
If we had gone to Poland, Jerusalem with our Rabbi and our Israeli guide Muki...DAYENU!!!!
A big thank you to Tobye Bello and to Marcus Frieze of Da'at Travel....also so much more should be in the song but they are calling my flight. NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM.
L'HITRA'OT....
Bonnie Seligson

Posted by Mark Bello
Our morning in the Galilee, as usual, starts with breakfast and Shacharit. The difference, this morning was that we are treated to a very interesting speaking by the name of Rube Rogel. Rube is a psychologist who is working on a Phd in post traumatic stress management. His recent work includes assisting victims of the Thailand tsunami and the hurricane in New Orleans, LA and Biloxi, MS. He also happens to live in the Galilee, and, in July 2006, he was sitting on his back porch when he heard a loud bang. Rube says that a person’s first reaction to potential trauma is to ignore it; the second occurrence is a “call to action”. True to human nature, Rube ignored the first “bang”, but when he heard a second, closer one, this was his “call to action”. The bombs fell on the northern regions of Israel for well over a month. The average family in that situation has two basic choices: Should we stay, or should we leave? While it is against human nature to leave, most realize that it is the safest option and choose to leave, Rube chose to stay and counsel those who were traumatized.

Rube describes what he saw and heard for that terrible month as “the Fourth of July fireworks” 24/7 for a solid month. It was very difficult because he had to deal with both personal and professional issues; he had to assist others while he was trying to cope with his own (and his family’s) trauma. He was assigned to counsel children who were exposed to the bombing. He asked them a very simple question: “What scares you the most?” Then, he asked them to draw it. He tells us the story of one little girl from the Galilee who was frightened at the sight of a particular terrorist on TV. She draws a very good likeness of the man and Rube asks her to alter the drawing to make the man less scary to her. She draws him in a pink dress; this makes her feel better. Rube tells the story to a group in Washington DC, and a woman is so touched, she crochets a pink blanket and sends it to Rube for the girl. The girl is very pleased with the gift, and the two begin a correspondence. The woman visits Israel and meets the child. The gift is such a hit that blanket-making has turned into a program, and pink blankets are being knitted for children all over the country. (To watch a video clip of this powerful presentation, click here)

After Rube’s presentation, we board the bus and David (our driver) takes us to the Tel Dan Nature Preserve, a very short drive from the Kibbutz. I am continually amazed at this country. As I have said before in these blogs, this is my third visit to Israel, but this visit has taken me to places that I did not know existed; each one is more beautiful, or as beautiful, as the next. This place exists around and about the ancient city (ancient city ruins are visible at the entrance gate) of Dan and the Dan stream (rapids which start as melting snow from Mt. Hermon and rapidly empty into Jordan River. We learn that the Dan is the longest and most important of three stream water sources for the Jordan which makes spring water plentiful and vegetation lush and green 365 days out of the year (most of Israel vegetation turns yellow in the late spring and early summer). There are eucalyptus trees all around. The sound of rushing water can be heard everywhere.
We enter the park on foot and, in the interest of time, choose the “30 minute walk” over the “60 minute walk”. The path follows the rapids and we can hear and feel the coolness of the rapids throughout our journey. We stop in the woods and Muki offers a prayer for our presence in this exquisitely beautiful G-d made place. Imagine the Tribe of Dan and their arrival at this lush and scenic place after wandering in the desert for so long. The “land flowing with milk and honey” has come to life.

We walk along a nature path of dirt and stone, weaving over and around the water. We arrive at a flour mill that had been used for hundreds of years, until 1940. The last water wheel rests at the side of the building. For centuries, the colonists harnessed the powerful water flow, and used its pressure to crush wheat and turn it into flour. Seymour finds a bamboo pole and assumes the persona of “Moses” Dubrinsky. I challenge him to part the waters or turn the pole into a snake, but he is unable to do so (later, he does part a pair of elevator doors at the hotel). We press on further into the woods and encounter a small pool of water. Several of us remove our shoes and socks and wade in the water, sharing it with one large and lonely crab. The mosquitoes are biting, but no one seems to mind.
Throughout this trip, I have commented about seeing nature at its best. We have seen and climbed mountains (by Jeep). We have seen rolling hills, multi-colored landscape, rivers and valleys. We have seen beautiful new and old cities, synagogues and structures. Now, up close and personal, we are experiencing a natural setting the likes of which I have never experienced. The path ends and we venture into a store on the premises where we much on sesame pretzels (better than salt). We return to the bus and begin the long trip from Israel’s northern tip, heading south, to Tel Aviv.

We arrive in Tel Aviv, Israel’s business, fashion, and information center. All foreign embassies are located here. In sharp contrast to Jerusalem and other Israeli cities, there are no Jerusalem Stone mandates or height restrictions. Consequently, concrete high-rise buildings dominate the landscape. The charm of the city is that it is the NYC of Israel; one can dine, be entertained, shop, relax at a sidewalk café, and lie on or walk the beach or the boardwalk. It is not difficult to find something to do in Tel Aviv.

Tobye and I check into the hotel and find we are on the 14th floor. The room has a view of the beach and the Mediterranean Sea; it is, simply, breathtaking. This is another example of Israel’s natural beauty.

We have arranged to meet Muki for a short walk to the Shuk, the outdoor market. The market is bustling with people and vendors; one can buy all types of food, fruits, vegetables and sweets. At the arts & crafts section, vendors display their talents in many different forms and subject matter. There is also a large clothing market on the premises. There is something for everyone, including a strange guy dressed in yellow spandex with ruffled lapels and anklets. He is still until someone places a coin in his basket; he comes to life upon receipt of any such deposit with an operatic voice, bird calls, and additional assortments of odd noises and movements.

Tobye and I wander about soaking up the sights and sounds. This market, for some reason, does not evoke the same “old world” charm of the Jerusalem market, but it is big, varied and fun. We stop at a display of beautifully carves soap, and we purchase gifts in all shapes and sizes, for my office staff. We start to exit the market and I am leaving in relatively good financial shape. We have one foot out of the market and one foot in, when the telephone rings. It is Linda Jacobson and she has found a whole new section and a store that sells beautiful Challah covers and tablecloths. So, we schlep back the way we came, meet Linda and Steve, and Tobye makes some serious (but very reasonably priced) purchases for our Shabbat table.

We part company with Linda & Steve, and leave the Shuk. It is a very short walk back to the hotel, but, somewhere, we make a wrong turn. We are wandering the streets of Tel Aviv for an hour, with no end in sight. We see some lovely old buildings (including a synagogue) and quaint restaurants and shops, but we can’t see the hotel or the sea. What we finally do see, is a taxi and a very nice Israeli born driver (who has also lived in NYC and LA-he must like large, bustling cities) takes us back to the hotel.

For dinner, we join Rabbi Berkun, Sharon, Joyce, Jules, Barbara, Linda & Steve at Kyoko Sushi, downtown. Dinner is delicious and a good time is had by all. We return to the hotel, where we run into Susan Tapper; Linda, Steve, Susan, Tobye & I decide to go to a beachfront coffee shop for coffee and/or desert. The place is right on the beach and tables are set outside on the sandy beach, a short walk from the hotel. We take off our shoes and enjoy iced coffees with ice cream and other goodies while digging our toes into the sand and, simply, enjoying each others’ company. A cool breeze is blowing and this is a very nice and relaxing ending to a wonderful and eventful day. Tomorrow, we have an event-filled agenda for Tel-Aviv; it is the final day of our trip. It will be difficult to leave this magical, enchanting country, but it will be good to get home to my family.

The next morning is our last day in the Holy Land. I am sad to be leaving, but excited to see my family and return home. Today, after a brilliant lecture from Muki about Israeli government, politics and judicial system, we take a walking tour of Tel Aviv and Jaffa. We started at Independence Hall, the site where David Ben Gurion announced an independent State of Israel in the land of Israel. We are treated to a passionate lecture by one of the curators of the Hall about how and why a Jewish State was absolutely necessary in the late 1940’s and how the Jews bravely built, then defended, it. Sharon Schwartz comments that this visit has brought us to an absolutely appropriate conclusion and understanding of the “Darkness to Light” theme. She is absolutely right (Bennett, you have always known that, right?).

Next, we visit to the spot at Kings of Israel Square where, on November 4, 1995, Yizhak Rabin was assassinated. The exact locations of the Prime Minister, his bodyguards and entourage, and the assassin are clearly marked on the ground, in bronze. It is eerie to stand on the spots where they stood. The area also has several monuments detailing the accomplishments of a remarkable public servant. Finally we walk through old Jaffa, which is experiencing a rebirth after years of decline.

Tel Aviv/Jaffa represents both the old and the “new” Israel. Tel Aviv has become the “New York” of Israel. Concrete high office buildings and apartments are everywhere. Traffic, both pedestrian and auto, is heavy. Muki points out a mural depicting the building and growth of the city. In the mural, men proudly push wheel barrels. This is a Jewish city, built by the labor of Jews, and they are proud of that fact. Jaffa is “right next door”, and provides an older, neighborhood setting. The two exist, side by side, and one feels the charm of the Israel of old and the excitement of Israel anew. Muki calls the city a “butterfly out of the womb”. This “new” Israel seeks to accommodate all Jews; it is a very inclusive Israel, for secular to ultra-Orthodox. It is seeking to build bridges, from Jew to Jew, from male to female, form young to old. While “Kosher” is less important here, there are still plenty of marvelous restaurants to choose from and exciting entertainment venues to try. It stands in sharp contrast to the religious, historical, old world charm of Jerusalem.

We have lunch on the beach, Tobye goes shopping (again!?) and I decide to walk the beach back to the hotel. I spend the rest of the afternoon lounging by the pool as the day becomes overcast.

Before dinner, we meet in a hotel conference room to share reflections of our trip. Without going into detail, it is obvious that we have bonded from this marvelous experience, and sustainable friendships have been made. One of the wonderful aspects of a trip like this is to share the experience with fellow Jews and congregants, whether old friends, or new. Hopefully, lasting relationships have developed here in the Holy Land.

Dinner is a group event and we dine together, one final time, just kibbutzing and enjoying each others company. It is time to leave and we take a short drive to the airport. We say goodbye to David, our driver, and Muki helps us through the rigorous security check. I write this just after saying farewell to Muki, whose love of Israel and keen insight has made him the best tour guide I have ever had the pleasure to travel with. I know he has been reading this blog, and I wish for him to know that I, and all of my fellow travelers, thank him for everything he has done for us. We will miss him and his beautiful country, but it will be good to return home. This process of “blogging” has been a wonderful experience for me and has helped me focus. I have thoroughly enjoyed bringing my trip experiences to whoever is reading these almost daily reports. For those of you who have been to Israel, I say, “Go again, soon” (and take Muki with you)! For those of you who have never been to Israel, GO! GO, SOON! It is a life changing experience.

With respect, Mark.

Here is a link to pictures from today and yesterday: http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day910May89GalileeTelAviv

Day 8, ISRAEL NORTH, Tzippori, Tzfat, & The Golan Heights, posted by Mark Bello

Posted by Mark Bello

What a day; I have much to write about! We leave Jerusalem and travel north. Our first stop is the Zippori Ancient Synagogue in the ancient city of Zippori. This is the site of the codification of the Mishnah, by Rabbi Yehudah Hanassi. The floor of the synagogue has been archeologically excavated and a protective pavilion has been built around it thanks to a donation from a family from Detroit. The floor is amazingly intact and contains mosaic artistry. The floor at the sanctuary entrance contains a “dedication aisle”. On the left is a dedication to Tanhum, son of Yudan and Semqah and Nehori, the son of Tanhum. The right side is dedicated to Yudan, son of Issac the Priest and Paragri, his daughter. Whatever they paid for these dedications, they sure got there money’s worth; the synagogue is almost 2,000 years old and people are still paying their respects!

We enter what was the (small) sanctuary and don our Talesim and Tefillin. We daven Shacharit in this place where people davened 2000 years ago. This is one of the wonders of Eretz Yitzrael; like yesterday on the Temple steps, we are conducting services where Jewish ancestor conducted services thousands of years ago!

This particular synagogue was built in 500 CE. The chapel mosaic floor contains scenes depicting daily bread and fruit offerings, signs of the Zodiac, Hebrew months, the four seasons, the binding of Issac, and the angels visit to Abraham and Sarah. Certainly, there are missing tiles, but the imagination can reconstruct. The curators have assisted with this, providing rendered drawings of what each scene must have looked like. There is also an artist rendering of the full structure; one can look at the pieces present and missing, and reconstruct the pieces in one’s mind. The other very interesting piece of trivia we learn is that this synagogue does not face Jerusalem. You see, this synagogue was built before that custom entered Jewish life. As we depart, we can see the excavations of the ancient city and envision the streets and structures in rather graphic detail. Zippori is a remarkable archeological site.

We return to the bus and take a short ride to Peki’in, primarily a Druze village. The Druze are Israeli Arabs (citizens of the Country). Our first stop is the Rashbi Cave. Legend has it that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai and his son, Rabbi Elazar, hid in the cave when the Romans issued a decree that Jews were forbidden from Torah study. According to legend, a miracle occurred and a carob tree and spring were miraculously created providing the two scholars years of nourishment while in hiding. The cave is a heavily visited and “West Wall type” notes and candles adorn the cavern.

We descend some nearby steps (steep and long); I have climbed more steps in the past two days than I can count! At the bottom is a natural spring, the same natural spring that acts as the principal water source for the region. Yesterday, when visiting the City of David, we had to stop half way to the Jerusalem spring and return. Not this time, though, and I reach in and grab a handful of the clear, clean, cool water.

It is time for lunch, and Muki leads us to a set of doors that leads to a beautiful stone restaurant. The atmosphere can only be described as dining in a finely finished cavern; the walls are of carved stone and there are several rooms with natural stone archways leading to each section of the restaurant. We are treated to a Mid- Eastern style feast capped off with Arabic coffee and, of course, Baklava. During lunch, we are introduced to a young Jew from Baltimore, MD, who has made aliyah and has been “adopted” by the Druze restaurant owner. He engages in a discussion of Arab-Israeli relations from a “village perspective”, and angers most who listen when he suggests that the Jews do not respect the Arabs and do not negotiate with good intentions.

After lunch, we retire to the “lounge” (it looks like an Arab living room), and are treated to a presentation by the owner about the Druze religion and customs. We discover that everything we ate is home made by the owner’s wife (who never leaves the kitchen and is not introduced to us). Toward the front of the restaurant is a little “food shop” where several of us buy different bottled delicacies. It is time to say farewell to our new Druze friends, and we ascend the stairs (there are always more on the way up, aren’t there!?) and board the bus to Safed.

Safed is the home of the Contemporary Artists’ Colony and has been the center of Jewish Mysticism for centuries. We discover that on a clear day (unfortunately, this one is hazy), one can look one way and see the Sea of Galilee, then look the other and see the Mediterranean. The first stop on our visit is the Caro Synagogue, a Orthodox-Sephardic synagogue painted sky blue, throughout. We learn that it is named for Rabbi Josef Caro, who wrote the Shulchan Aruch, the authoritative text of modern Jewish Law. The interior is fascinating for its volumes of ancient texts, many of which are now banished and contained behind glass because they cannot be discarded, under Jewish Law (because they contain G-d’s word).

Next, we visit the Ashkanazi Ari Synagogue, named for the Rabbi. This synagogue is the birthplace of Kabbalat Shabbat. We learn that a very interesting incident occurred at this place. In 1948, during Israel’s War for Independence, the synagogue’s door was wide open and the congregants were inside the chapel, praying. An Arab attack on the city occurred and a piece of shrapnel was shot into the sanctuary. At the precise moment the deadly shrapnel entered the building, the congregants reached a point in the service where they were required to bow. They bowed and the shrapnel flew over their heads and struck the bima instead of a human target. The bima bears the scar of the attack, to this day.

After our visit to the synagogues, we take a leisurely stroll through the Old City (yes, Safed has an Old City, too, with narrow streets paved in Jerusalem stone, but it is not Jerusalem, not even close) and visit the art galleries and their beautiful works of art. Surprisingly, Tobye buys nothing, chalk one up for my bank account!

It is now late afternoon, and we leave this beautiful place and return to the bus for the drive to the Upper Galilee. We drive over the Amoud Valley via the Amoud Canyon Bridge, the highest bridge in Israel. We pass between the Jordan River and the Mountains of Galilee and stop at the river for a guided Jeep tour of the Golan Heights. Bonnie, Joyce, Leonard, Susan, Sharon and I climb into the back of a Jeep which has been altered to provide bench seating for six passengers along each side of the Jeep. Tobye, the queen, sits in the front passenger seat because of her motion sickness (good luck, driver!). Our other travel mates are loaded into two more “Jeeps” (one is a more luxurious Land Rover). The trip starts at a very rickety bridge over the Jordan, then up a paved road which inclines, slightly, along the base of the hill. We are advised by our very friendly driver that the road is a pre-1967 IDF road. I am thinking: “Will we be shot at?” Then: “This isn’t so bad; Tobye will be fine”. We turn right and, suddenly, we are on a roller coaster ride on a dirt and stone road, going directly up to the top of the Golan Heights. The climb is very steep and we are rockin’ and rollin’ up the side of the mountain. Tobye pulls out her Lott Airlines barf bag. About half-way to the top, Leonard inquires whether the driver has enough gas to get us there and back; not funny, none of us want to walk back down.

We reach the top and stagger out of the Jeep. We look out over the valley toward the Mountains of Galilee (toward Lebanon, behind us is Syria). The site is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The sun is setting on the mountain; the valley is multicolored, manicured, lush and green. I can only describe it as true G-d’s country.

Our Jeep guide (not Muki), provides a lesson in border war and how the borders have changed with the various wars the area has experienced. I must confess, I have difficulty with his dialect (he certainly speaks better English than I speak Hebrew) and I don’t catch all he has to say. It suffices to say that the spot we are standing upon was once Syrian land after Syrian forces pushed Israel back during the 1948 War for Independence. After the 1967 war, and since, the land has belonged to Israel. The sun is disappearing over the horizon and I can certainly understand why such beauty is fought over (there are also strategic resource and defense issues that are far more important than scenic beauty). But, Israel has it, now; let’s hope she retains it without further bloodshed. (We learn that the site was also the target of Lebanese bombs in last year’s war.)

As the sun disappears, we return to the Jeep for the descent down the mountain. The trip is quite eventful. Aside from the usual “rock & roll”, we encounter a fox, a second large unidentified four legged animal, two baby kittens in the middle of the road (causing a short and appreciated stop) and a sweet pea stop (Our driver stops to pick and hands us a few delicious samples as an appetizer to dinner). When we reach the bottom, we encounter a locked gate, which requires us to double back over the same last couple of miles of back road to our dinner destination. This ride is no place for a bad back; I will certainly be sore tomorrow.

We reach our dinner destination, a large picnic table, set under artificial lighting adorned by huge palm trees and deep woods and the moon and the stars. It is just beautiful. I discover that we are on picnic grounds of the Hagoshrim Kibbutz. We feast upon a barbequed Greek style meal consisting of several appetizers, chicken kabob, steak, hot dogs, lamb burgers, potatoes, egg plant and coleslaw. There is too much food, but, of course, we can handle it! Dessert is home grown fruit; peaches, plums, apples and a local fruit called “loqat” (delicious). We are told that we cannot leave until we have tea, so we wait and are served a delicious hot tea with a touch of mint flavor. After dinner, we thank our hosts; we are all stuffed and return to the bus for the short ride to the hotel. It is nestled in a beautiful area on the grounds of the Kibbutz. Unfortunately, we will not get to enjoy it much and we must rise in the morning and leave, immediately, for visits to Kiriat Sh’monah and the Tel Dan Nature Preserve. It is late and I am tired. I will try to write more, tomorrow.

With respect, Mark

Here is a link to pictures from today: http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day8IsraelTzipporiTzfatGolanHeights

Day 7, ISRAEL, Jerusalem, Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial & The Old City, posted by Mark Bello, Bonnie Seligson, & Leonard Borman

Today has been a very exhausting yet powerful day. We began at the Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Authority. It was an emotionally challenging morning, although it was made uplifting by the large presence of Israeli soldiers who were also visiting the memorial as part of their education training in the army. We spent the afternoon touring the Old City of Jerusalem in the City of David and the Davidson Archaelogical Park. To stand at the kotel with us, click on this video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pq1lEAtG97Q

Thank you to Sally and Richard Krugel, who somehow managed to have a case of freshly baked cookies delivered to our hotel for us to take on our long bus trip up north tomorrow. Todah Rabbah for your thoughtful generosity!

Also, our guide Muki suggested that if anyone wanted to own a kippah like his, they should visit:
http://www.jdc.org/p_ee_bul_ps_build_manos.html
It was knitted by the Manos Bendichas (Ladino for "blessed hands") of Jewish women in Bulgaria as a means to support their struggling community.

Posted by Mark Bello
Today (after breakfast of course), we began our morning listening to a fascinating presentation. Rachel Korazin, an Israeli scholar and expert on the Shoah and its’ aftermath, spoke about the new Yad Vashem and the conflicts between “native” Israeli vs. Survivor, Zionist vs. Religious, and the historical factors (religious and secular)that lead to the declaration of a Yom HaShoah observance. Rachel is the child of survivors (including a survivor grandmother); she also shared her own experiences, detailing how different family members managed the aftermath of the Shoah. The presentation was fascinating and provided a unique prequel to what we were about to experience.

After her presentation, we traveled to the new Yad Vashem. The building is made of concrete, not Jerusalem stone; the only new building not following the mandate that Jerusalem stone be used. The reason is that the Shoah is not an Israeli experience; it is an out of Israel experience and thus should be made with “out of” Israel material.

Having just visited Poland, I must confess that I am feeling a bit of Holocaust excess with our visit to this place. I am fascinated with the exhibits and the time seems to fly by, but I can’t shake the feeling that enough is enough. I wonder if anyone else is feeling this way.

The testimony of the various survivors is an excellent way of personalizing the experience and several bring me to tears. The expansion of this experience outside of that of the Polish Jews (that we have focused upon) to other regions of Europe is probably the most interesting “new” information we receive. We learn that the Nazis first try to isolate us into ghettos and we don’t die fast enough for them. A second exhibit reveals the second step, the systematic slaughter by weapon of 1.5 million Jews between 1942 and 1943. Poor Nazis, they just can’t kill us fast enough; we learn that bullets are expensive and the activity takes a toll on soldiers who must carry out the murders, so the Nazi hierarchy decides on the so-called Final Solution: Create Concentration camps; concentrate the Jews and isolate them, creating the perfect killing environment.

Near the conclusion of our visit, we gather in the community section of the museum, a stark stone structure, divided into the communities of Jews exterminated in the Shoah. We recite memorial prayers and sing Hatikvha adjacent to the Polish community. We conclude our visit with a walk through the Children’s section. There is a stone edifice that is all glass inside, with memorial candles for 1.5 million children murdered in the Holocaust lit in almost complete darkness, while a voice calls out the names of each one. I am brought to tears during my short walk. What could these children have meant to modern Jewry? What kind of life were they deprived of? They never saw High School, never got to date each other, never experienced true love, and, most importantly, never got to have children of their own or realize their dreams. The thought is overwhelmingly sad.

As we leave this place, after our Hatikvah performance, Muki advises that we have a “booking” in the Old City. I jokingly inquire whether someone has heard us sing. I am admonished by one of my travel mates for making a joke at Yad Vashem. I disagree; humor is necessary everywhere, especially in this place.

My blogs have detailed several ironies that I have witnessed in our travels. As we are leaving the museum, I notice a group of Muslims waiting with their tour guide to enter the premises. I wonder if learning about Eastern European Jewish life as it was and what happens when one race or religion hates another will help create a feeling of tolerance and peace in these people. I am doubtful, but these things can happen one person or one tour group at a time.

Next, we visit the City of David, the Jerusalem Walls National Park. We learn that Israel has its’ own underground spring and that this is the only large water supply in the Middle East. This has made Jerusalem a very powerful force, historically, a fact that continues to this day. We journey underground and view the ancient, elaborate tunnels and caverns leading to the spring. It is an exhausting journey and we learn that, in ancient times, this journey was made mostly by women who lived to serve their men. This sounds good to me! Having ventured downward into the depths of Jerusalem, we now have to climb back up. I am surprised by my energy as I ascend, although some of my travel mates are having trouble with the uphill climb.

Next, we visit the Jerusalem Archeological Park, endowed by Bill Davidson. The natural rock sites are a welcome sight as they make for great seating after our climb from the City of David. We learn that this is the site of an archeological dig around the temple mount, the support system for the 2nd temple. The site is magnificent, and the visitor can truly feel and experience the Bible, first hand. More irony occurs when, as we descend to the mount, a Muslim call to prayer is heard from the Mosque above our location. There is a well defined open area on the grounds, and we learn that this was a mikvah, with a wide entrance so that the pure can pass up while the impure pass down.

We are shown the Temple’s entrance and exit and Muki asks which one is which, the larger or the smaller. One closes out from the Temple and the other closes in. He theorizes that the entrance drops in, because people who go to services do not all arrive at once; they tend to dribble in. Of course, the one that drops out is the larger one, because that is the exit; everyone can’t wait to leave after a long service and they all leave at the same time! We stand on the Temple staircase and look out at the beautiful hills of the City. The Bible’s reference to these beautiful hills; “I lift up mine eyes…” is referenced by Muki and it certainly is a strong reference. Muki finishes our visit with a story about Neal Armstrong, the first astronaut to walk on the moon. Apparently, Armstrong visits Israel and the Temple site about one year after his moon walk. He asks his guide whether Jesus might have walked on these steps and the guide responds that he would have. Armstrong reaches down and touches the step. He remarks that it means more to him to step on these steps than it did to step on the moon. The religious significance of this place belongs to all, not just to the Jews. To hear the Muslim call to prayer in the old city, click on this video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6zzYIsSdHk

We leave this marvelous place and finish our day with Old City shopping and a wonderful dinner with several of our group members at Olive, a popular Kosher restaurant. A good time is had by all.

Posted by Bonnie Seligson
I am so exhausted from today....my thoughts will be random. It is late in the night, but I just want to express a few things that stick out in my mind.........these will not be in order of the sequence from today, but anyone reading this blog has our itinerary, so I have no need to go in order. Instead, I will give a few impressions as they pop into my head.

To those of you who know me and my mother.......I must admit I am very glad she wasn't on this trip today. The sites we visited in the City of David were incredibly hard to navigate. My mother would have been telling me to BE CAREFUL all day. I would have been worried about her....but she would have been more worried about me....So instead of having my one mother along, I had 20 mothers who watched over me every step of the way. To them I am truly grateful.
PS I had no more problem than the rest of the group. Often today I thought of the mothers and daughters in the Holocaust...and how frightened and worried they must have been for each other.

We started off the day with an incredible lecture from Dr. Rachel Korazin. She explained the philosophy of the new Yad Vashem. The old Yad Vashem dealt mainly with the destruction of the Jews and the power of the Nazis.. the focus of the new museum is to show the vibrancy of the Jewish life that existed before the war all over Eastern and Western Europe. The theme of memory has been talked about throughout our trip. We had a Yizkor service at the site of the Lost Communities and this is one of the readings handed out at the site. "We are a single people with a single memory. Just as the Diaspora's main task is to protect and shield Israel, Israel's task should be to strengthen the Diaspora, in the sense of making its Jews more Jewish, more creative, more responsive." To see part of our memorial ceremony in the Valley of the Communities at Yad Vashem, click this video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULGuVDsQqQg

At the area of the old temple in Jerusalem, our guide Muki was giving us the history of the area chronologically....and he again said something that sticks in my mind when recalling the day. He said it is easy to lose your keys, your wallet, your glasses, your purse in a cab in Boston which he has done invariably at one time or another, but how do you LOSE THE TEN TRIBES!

Muki told us when Neal Armstrong visited the old temple site in Jerusalem, he knelt down and touched the stone. Being a deeply religious man, Neal Armstrong said touching those stones was more exciting than when he touched the moon. Muki told us that Neal Armstrong understood that sometimes touching history can be greater than making history.
I'm going to sleep now......but I wanted to let everyone know this is just a minute of what we learned in the last 8-9 hours. LAILA TOV!

Posted by Leonard Borman
My golf game was interrupted. I had practiced twice weekly during the winter seeking to improve the timing of my swing for the upcoming summer season. Instead, I am in Israel and not giving a golf game a second thought. Playing sounds less important.

The memory of Poland has not left me. What about all those families whose lives were cut short. Within ten minutes after stepping off the trains in Birkenau, they died. It took generations to establish family life. One would expect a lengthy period to erode it. Instead, ten minutes. It was difficult to comprehend prior to this trip; very believable now.

I imagined families that were strong that still suffered from family betrayals: divorce, alcoholism, abandonment. Yet, if wanted, time allowed for the damage to be repaired. The same could be said of personal betrayal of inner strength.

The Nazis perpetrated the biggest betrayal, one from where no one could return: Loss of human freedom.

Here is a link to pictures from today: http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day7ISRAELJerusalemYadVashemHolocuastMemorialTheOldCity

Day 6, ISRAEL, Shabbat in Jerusalem, posted by Leonard Borman, Jules Olsman, Linda & Steve Jacobson, and Mark Bello

Posted by Leonard Borman
During a routine, a comedian pleaded with the audience, “Take me to my people, take me to my people.” The stooge replies, “Where, to Israel?” “No,” replies the comedian. “To Miami Beach.” The stooge’s reply was a set up, but true.

All types of Jewish people of Jewish faith were in the Jerusalem I saw. Sitting in a hotel lobby, I overheard a heavily accented 50ish New York couple snipe about everything: the hotel room, the restaurants, and walking in the heat. On erev Shabbat, the hotel was filled with men and women across the religious spectrum. Hassidim together with men in khakis, probably conservative or reform Jews.

It’s easier being Jewish in Israel. No questions are asked—the food is kosher. With shuls everywhere, not finding one was impossible. Everything closed down on Shabbat eliminating distractions. We say we have it easy in America. Yes, many things are easy. Not all, though.

Posted by Jules Olsman
The past twenty four hours have been an astonishing contrast. They truly represented the transition from darkness to light. More appropriately, from the depths of darkness to the heights of hope and renewal.

Our last day in Poland was Thursday, May 3. We began the day at what was the Placzow concentration camp in Krakow. The Germans destroyed the camp at which tens of thousands of people were shot or worked to death. All that exists are a few monuments in a large open area..

A monument at the camp, written in Hebrew declares that “humanity has no words for what happened here.” In my opinion, this is not quite accurate. Later in the day we visited a neglected and weed infested 200 year old Jewish cemetery in the town of Sidlowitz. In the cemetery of this town that now has no Jews, a monument was erected in 1967 to memorialize the victims of the Holocaust. On the back of the monument which stood 10 feet height, someone has written in chalk the words “Juden Rause,” which in Polish means “Jews Out.” These words were written underneath a carefully drawn swasitka within days of our visit.

The "words" that the monument at Placzow said do not exist were written right in front of all of us. They were addressed to us. Who else would ever see them. These words confirmed my father’s smouldering hatred for the Poles which he repeatedly expressed to me before his death in 1966. Now I understood what he was talking about. It was as if he was there pointing out how “nothing changes.”

Lot flight 151 left Warsaw at 11:55 PM and landed in Tel Aviv at 4:30 AM. The transition was immediate. It was almost (I emphasize the term “almost”) an antidote to the profound distress we all had been feeling for days. As the plane was in its glide path, Rabbi Berkun passed me a set of head phones so I could listen to Cantor Finkelstein sing the Prayer for Israel which he had on his computer as the lights of Tel Aviv came into view. It was truly a mystical moment.

We went straight from the airport to a magnificent vista overlooking Jerusalem. We were all so tired we could barely stand up. Rabbi Berkun led a wonderful service, during which he read a letter written by a young man who had been imprisoned and died at Auschwitz. In the letter, he expressed a hope to someday see Jerusalem. After our time at Poland, we could truly feel his presence. We were the eyes to his soul.

Posted by Linda & Steve Jacobson
Mincha and Kabbalat Shabbat were at Shira Chadasha. For those of you who are unfamiliar, easiest described as modern orthodox, semi-egalitarian, beautiful singing. For those who have ever been a wear traveler, imagine your head weighing 50 pounds sinking ever so slowly to the floor from being awake almost two days. Imagine, afterwards, the sudden re-awakening of your body with the sight of a ridiculously full, never-ending Shabbat dinner buffet. Suffice it to say that food was ample, delicious, and filling.

Flash forward to Shabbat morning . . . too lazy and tired to hit the breakfast buffet until closing time, 10:30 a.m., which, for you seasoned Israel travelers will know, is WAY too late to get to a shacharit service. Oh well . . . took a short walk with Steve through Yemin Moshe instead.

Shabbat lunch . . . did I mention there's a lot of food on the trip???? Shabbat lunch was soon after breakfast for us, 1:30. Nice buffet, lots of good stuff, followed by a much-needed nap. We left the hotel around 5 p.m. to walk through some of the Jerusalem neighborhoods using the poetry of Yehuda Amichai as our road map. Words were as appropriate today as the day they were written.

We davened mincha at the Conservative Yeshiva. Had my first (and probably last) ever aliyah in Jerusalem. Nice, followed by Steve as hagbah. Nice honors, the check is probably in the mail! :) We went looking for Lag Ba'Omer bonfires, were too early, had no trouble smelling them, however, in the night air an hour later. Hillel Kessler, guide and friend, met us on Ben Yehuda, came back to our hotel with us for a drink. Don't get too excited all you out there in cyberland, had a diet coke, diet sprite and mineral water on the tab. We handed off a jar of Sanders Hot Fudge for he and his wife to enjoy, then it's off to bed. It's past 12:30 a.m. here, Steve still has work to do, so I need to sign off.

Hope all is well at home. Life in Jerusalem is THE BEST!! Wish you all were here.

Posted by Mark Bello
Today, we spent Shabbat in Jerusalem. The readers may recall that I’ve slept, roughly, three hours in the 40 hours that preceded Shabbat. I had intended to go to services at the Great Synagogue, today. Alas, I wake up at 12:30 PM. I feel rested and ready to go. Lunch is at 1:00 PM and we enjoy it in the hotel dining room with our “trip friends”. This is one of the pleasures of this experience; getting to know congregants who I have know, but not well, and meeting and becoming friendly with people I did not know before. After lunch, we relax at pool side (which is on the roof of the hotel, with a nice view).

At 5:00 PM, we meet Muki in the lobby, for a walking tour of residential Jerusalem. The tour begins in the park that I wandered into on my first day here, at the windmill and neighborhood built by Sir Moses Montifiore (yes, he was a knighted British man). You may recall that this was the first Jerusalem neighborhood built outside the walls of the Old City. The neighborhood buildings have roofs constructed in a similar manner to the walls of the Old City. It seems that the Israeli citizens did not exactly embrace the idea of life outside the city walls, and interest in the project was non-existent. Montifiore was giving the homes away, and had no takers!

We ascend some steps and arrive at a second, very beautiful neighborhood called Yemin Moshe. This is a series of attached homes over looking the Old City. Beautiful trees, gardens and small parks accent the property and Muki advises that these home are very expensive and unoccupied almost 90% of the time. They are used, primarily as second homes to the rich and famous in Israel. The 10% occupation occurs, primarily, during the High Holidays.

We walk to the rear of the homes and encounter a beautiful park where families are relaxing and children are kicking soccer balls around. Muki leads us to what can only be described as a scenic “pit” or sink hole, and we learn that it once was the site of an elaborate tomb. Indeed, there is a stairway that leads underground, and a neighborhood family ventures down the stairs below the rock formations we are reclining upon. I wonder, as we rise to leave, whether anyone was home. We venture further into the city in search of another neighborhood near Ben Yehuda Street. We pass the King David Hotel, on of the older and, perhaps, the finest hotel in Jerusalem. Across the street from the King David is the YMCA. This is not like any YMCA you have ever seen. There is a beautiful church and tower overlooking the city and the structure is magnificent. Muki advises that virtually every religious entity purchased property in Jerusalem, and, at some point or another, built their “monument” to the Holy Land. We walk a bit further and encounter the administrative offices of the JCC. As irony has been a large part of our trip, Muki advises that the director of the JCC swims down the street at the YMCA.

We arrive at the United Synagogue complex and daven the Shabbat evening prayers, ma’ariv and Havdalah. I am honored with the Kohen Aliyah. Between services, we receive a nosh and the local scholar provides an interesting commentary on the 7 relationships for mourning-father, mother, sister, brother, son, daughter, and spouse. Rabbi Berkun reflected on our visit to the camps and the tension between our desire to mourn the 6 Million and the obligation to only mourn the 7 accepted relationships. Rabbi Berkun is then invited to daven ma’ariv and lead Havdalah.

After services, Muki reminds us that because it is Lag Ba’Omer, there will be bonfires all over the city. We went looking for bonfires in the Orthodox neighborhoods. There are people gathered in various groupings, but it is two early for a bonfire. Muki advises that there will be bonfires to be found, if we so desire, and he leads us to Ben Yehuda Street where he says “good night” for the evening.

We venture over to Ben Yehuda Street to shop and munch. The sites and sounds of post-Shabbat Ben Yehuda Street creates a very entertaining evening. We are told by a “local” that the entire town will smell like smoke in the morning from the Lag Ba’Omer bonfires. We return to the hotel and, as we are walking in, a man comes up to me and asks “Do you know where there are any fires”? This struck me as very funny; I was thinking about whether anyone has ever asked such a question in the Detroit area and what would happen to him if he did. Of course, this was Israel on Lag Ba’Omer, and it was a very appropriate question.

In the hotel lobby, Linda Jacobson is chatting with a local friend. She has given him a bag and I discover that the bag contains a bottle of Sanders Hot Fudge. Detroit may not be as old as Jerusalem, but we have some old and delicious traditions at home, as well. This has been a very relaxing day. After several days of non-stop activity and an “all-nighter” the night before, a Shabbat rest is very much appreciated and I took full advantage of it.

Note from Rabbi Berkun: There is no link to any pictures from today, as it was Shabbat.

Day 5, ISRAEL: Getting Ready for Shabbat in Jerusalem, posted by Sharon Schwartz, Bonnie Seligson, Linda & Steve Jacobson, and Mark Bello

Posted by Sharon Schwartz
Our last evening in Poland just before boarding the place for Israel continued to be the emotional roller coaster that had captured our hearts, minds, and souls. We debriefed, discussed, and even disagreed on our thoughts and opinions about the past, present, and future. Once we boarded the plane, there became a sudden rush of anticipation. The adrenalin kicked in as we landed in Israel in a few short hours. It truly was going from the deepest, darkest depth of despair to the highest and brightest place you could be.

We started out at the top of Jerusalem as the sun was rising to say the “shehecheyanu.” I felt such a joy and I also loved seeing and hearing the wonderful reactions of those in our group who were experiencing Israel for the very first time. After a very short rest, we joined all those preparing for Shabbat in the Machane Yehuda market. The crowds, even with the pushing and shoving was worth it as we made our way to the world famous Marzipan bakery. Scott, I bought you a huge container of chocolate rugelach!

Some went with Muki, our guide, for lunch, and some of us joined Rabbi Berkun at his favorite place, “Pinati.” It was like heaven gobbling up hummus and pita on the streets of Jerusalem. Now it is time for a little pre-Shabbat shopping! My first and most important shopping mission was to find a tallit for my adult Bat Mitzvah which is scheduled for Shavuot 2008. With the help and approval of Susan, Bonnie, and Rabbi Berkun, mission accomplished!

Posted by Bonnie Seligson
I personally have already gone from the darkness to the light.
After the most incredible Friday night service at one of Rabbi Berkun's favorite synagogues in Jerusalem ("Shira Chadashah"), we made our way back to the hotel for a shabbat dinner. Eight Israeli members of my family joined me at this dinner. I told Sharon as we made our way back to the hotel that I did not know how I would be able to talk to my family... I was so mentally and physically exhausted from the darkness I had experienced in Poland. I feard I would fall asleep in the soup at dinner. As soon as we walked into the hotel, my family was waiting for me. From that moment on, my energy revived and I spent the next 4.5 hours in the "brightest light" I have ever known.

Posted by Linda & Steve Jacobson
For all of you who are following our footsteps, we landed safely in Tel Aviv at 4:30 a.m. this morning. I am so happy to be "home" in Jerusalem, I'm not tired at all. Steve, on the other hand, is snoring on the bed. It's 3:45 in the afternoon, we got about 2 hours of sleep on the 3 1/2 hour plane ride, I made him accompany me, along with Jeremy Pappas, on a walk through the Old City, up Jaffa Road, (for those of you who don't know the terrain, it's a lot of uphill climbing), a quick (okay, long because it was crowded) stop at Khalifa shoes to buy some new Naot clogs and sandals for Marni (and receive the complimentary high quality clicky pens with the store name . . . good cuz I lost my old one), continued up Jaffa Road to cut across to Yoel Solomon Street to purchase a Bat Mitzvah gift for a family friend (Betsy and DeDe, that info's for you), continued up Ben Yehuda to say hello to one of our shopkeeper friends, and then on to Mahane Yehuda. Are you all out of breath yet, because my feet are now so swollen that they're killing me, but I'm not the one snoring on the bed, just for the record.

Mahane Yehuda is the open air market, where you can buy anything from spices to candy, raw chicken, cooked chicken, fresh fish still swimming in little buckets, rugelach (the best in the world), fresh orange juice (shared a jug with Jeremy and Steve), and just about anything you can think of in between. We now have the newest flavor mentos that comes in a hard cardboard flip-top box - black licorice, and a full box plus some loose rolls of pink grapefruit flavored mentos. ( a family favorite, and for anyone counting, that's upwards of 40 rolls . . . gotta have 'em) We passed on the rugelach, sorry kids, but: a) too heavy to bring home another 20 pounds and b) it would be sitting around for 5 days before we even fly home. The mold factor was not on our side, so we'll have to come back again, or settle for less than adequate look-alikes at home. The next stop, thankfully all downhill, was for schwarma (not me, not my style), falafel (that'd be me), some diet cokes and water. After walking for 2 1/2 hours, I finally convinced Jeremy to get a HAIRCUT . . . (this one's for you Robinson family. . . at Marcel's). Gotta tell you all there were about 8 inches of curls on the floor, and a handsome looking person under that ridiculous mop when he was finished. Haircut was on us, tip was on him.

Continuing on our back breaking journey(which now included two shoe boxes in one bag, 48 rolls of mentos, quite heavy, actually, one Bat Mitzvah gift - - can't say what it is right now, a huge bag of popcorn for Steve -- only 6 shekels, quite a bargain for stuff that looks like cardboard, and a 6-pack of water bottles from the Supersol up the street) we are now in the hotel, where I need shower number 2 of the day because I'm so sweaty from shlepping around (genetic misfortune, father's side I think), Steve's snoring (and argued with me over when to START his 24 hour internet time so as to maximize it completely . . . I told him I'd spring for the next 24, SPORT), I'm trying to keep in touch, thinking about my next shower, (which will probably happen sometime between now and 4:15, cuz we're going to the Kotel together), the walk (oy) to shul (might skip that if the legs and feet are still so swollen), the ridiculously large Shabbat dinner buffet that I know will be downstairs, and the bottle of wine that I sure hope is on the table so I can drink some and actually fall asleep. It seems that cat naps on the bus are quite detrimental to night-time sleeping, or, I should clarify, falling asleep before 1 or later. That's why I'm the one awake right now, while the main man is out cold.

I should mention for a moment, in all seriousness, the view of Jerusalem at dawn after returning from such an intensely horrifying historical journey. It is truly a blessing to be here and one I will not be taking for granted, especially since I'm pretty certain (it's been confirmed) that there are no more long vacations again for a while.

Posted by Mark Bello
Today, we arrive in the Promised Land. More irony; we arrive in the “light” part of our trip at 4:30 AM, in total darkness. After luggage and bus arrangements are made, we travel from Ben Gurion Airport, which, we discover, has been recently renovated in a project called “2000”. When was it finished, you ask? In 2004. Because of a drop in tourism caused by terrorist activities and war, the project was delayed, abandoned and, finally, when tourism returned, completed. It is wonderful to hear that tourism has returned to pre-intifada numbers.

We travel to the Tayelet where people come to view the beautiful city of Jerusalem from “on high.” The view is, indeed, breathtaking and we share wine, fruit and nuts, then daven the morning service as the sun rises over the city and glimmers off the golden dome of the rock. The experience is heavenly. Muki points out that Jerusalem is divided into three valleys and provides a detailed history lesson. It is difficult to leave this place, but we return to the bus and take the short ride to our hotel.

After breakfast, I take a walk up King David Street (I think) and I encounter two very beautiful parks, Bloomfield Park (coincidentally the name of my subdivision at home) and Liberty Bell Park. The parks are set amid trees, flowers, lawn and beautiful white natural rock formations. Individual gardens are adorned with dedication plaques, one of which read “Donated by Max Fisher and Alfred Taubman, Detroit, MI”. These men are Shaarey Zedek legends. A basketball court is host to a lively game and teachers hold class in the various garden sections. I encounter a residential neighborhood, built into the park; a monument declares it to be the first residential neighborhood built outside of the Old City and indicates that it was successfully defended by the Hagana, from attack, in the 1930’s. An observation point affords a beautiful view of the Old City and the Chapel of Ascension. It is getting really hot out here, but it sure is gorgeous.

The group next meets in the lobby (after a rest, for most) and we take the bus to the market. I have been there before, but the market takes on new meaning for me as I realize that the hustle-bustle atmosphere, the shouts from vendors, the bargaining, the madness of it all must have been what Jewish pre-war Poland was like. It is certainly wonderful to see these signature traditions of European Jewry have not been wiped out. The rugelach (chocolate and cinnamon) are delicious and I sip on a fresh squeezed orange juice. Next we visit Ben Yehuda street for a falafel lunch. My wife is in heaven because she can eat meat out!

I look around me; almost everyone is Jewish! What a wonderful feeling and what a wonderful place to be a Jew. This stands in stark contrast to the Polish experience where almost all Jews are gone with few signs to indicate the existence of any modern Jewish life. No “Jude Rause” in Israel.

After an hour or so of rest (I have not slept for more than an hour in the last 36 hours), we assemble again. This time we are at the Western Wall. This is my third trip to Israel, and while “Jewishness” surrounds you everywhere, the Wall is different. Here, you can sense the presence of G-d and history. However you choose to believe, one fact is very clear: The Wall has been standing for over 2000 years and centuries of people have stood and prayed at the very spot we are standing upon. It is really quite a thrilling experience. I have also been paying some attention to my friend, Jules Olsman’s first experience in Israel and at the wall. He is having the time of his life and I am getting a huge kick out of sharing it with him.

We return to the hotel and walk to Shul, not just any shul, but a modern orthodox minyan called "Shira Chadashah," where the woman and men sit apart, but have equal access to the bima, which is divided by a sheer curtain. The atmosphere is crackling and joyful and all attendees happily participate in the most upbeat service I have ever attended. Various members, young and old, take turns leading the services. The entire congregation joins in singing at the top of its voice, clapping, stamping feet and snapping fingers. The atmosphere is contagious and I find myself singing loudly, tapping my feet, and slapping my thigh. A good time was had by all; how often can we say that about a religious service?

We walk back to the hotel, together, and enjoy a wonderful Shabbat buffet. Bonnie Seligson brings her great uncle’s family to dinner. She is very proud to have them there and I am excited for her; she swears that one young boy is going to be a future prime minister of Israel.

I have now been awake for 37 of the past 40 hours; tomorrow is Shabbat and I am taking a well deserved rest. We are supposed to take an “education walk” tomorrow at 5:00 PM.
Thanks,
Mark


Here is a link to pictures from today: http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day5IsraelMay4JerusalemAndMachanehYehudah

Day 4, Plaszow Concentration Camp, 1946 Pogrom in Kielce, and Sidlowitz Cemetery: posted by Mark Bello and Leonard Borman

Posted by Mark Bello
Day 5 begins with a visit to the Plaszow concentration camp. The camp is nestled in a quiet and scenically beautiful park, set on the outskirts of Krakow. People are riding their bikes and walking their dogs on the very spot where 700 Jewish people were brutally murdered upon their arrival, here, over 60 years ago. I am appalled at the paradox of such peace, joy and beauty in a place where such inhumane savagery occurred. In fact, these people pass by at the moment our guide, Muki, is explaining about the horrible atrocities that occurred such a short time ago.

We learn that the majority of those killed (if not all of them) were Hungarian Jews. We learn the meaning of the word “concentration”, that the Nazis took people from other countries, brought them to Poland and concentrated and isolated them so that escape in a land where they were unfamiliar with the culture and language and had no support system, was futile. I am struck by a comparison made to the Metro Detroit Jewish population of 70,000 and how the Nazi extermination system would have taken less than a week to wipe out the entirety of Jewish Detroit.

Upon leaving, we stop at a travel rest stop and a couple of trucks with horse trailers pull in. There are about 5-6 horses in each and they are very well ventilated. I again feel a strong sense of irony as these vehicles pull in at the very moment we exit the bus. The horses are treated far better than my brothers and sisters were in their overcrowded, unventilated, camp transport rail cars.

We re-board the bus and travel to Kielce, the site of the first of several post-Holocaust pogroms. Kielce was a town of 7,000 Jews, pre-war, and the 200 (yes, only 200) survivors return “home”. Imagine returning “home” to find your property occupied by others who tell you “this is our property now, not yours”. On July 4, 1946, 42 are killed and some 80 more injured on the 170th birthday of the United States of America. Apparently, the incident resulted from a young boy being ordered to lie about his recent disappearance and subsequent re-discovery. He untruthfully blames transplanted Jewish people who live at the site, and an angry mob arrives and begins shooting the Jews. I was certainly familiar with the Holocaust before embarking on this trip. What I never thought about, however, is what happened to the few who were liberated and attempted to return to homes that were no longer theirs. In this horrible example, they were hoarded into this small structure we were standing in front of, forced to live together in these crowded conditions, and, about one year later, were shot and killed; it was déjà vu, all over again. This event and others like it resulted in massive emigration to Israel, virtually ending any hope of a rebirth of “Jewish” Poland.

We return to the bus and travel to the Sidlowitz cemetery and monument. The cemetery, sadly, is neglected. Many tombstones are displaced and broken and piled together in a pile, like “junk”. Those standing are in disrepair. The grounds are unattended; weeds and overgrown grass abound. We arrive at a monument erected in honor of an incident in which 150 Jews were mass murdered. The inscription is in Polish so I venture to the back of the monument to see if the inscription is repeated in English. There, on the back, in chalk, is a swastika and the words “Jude Rause” (Jews out). We are shocked to silence and while I am angry at the stupidity of the “artist”, I also feel terrible for our Polish guide, Yanish, standing at my side. Yanish had, during the course of our visit, admitted various anti-Semitic actions of the Polish people, but had valiantly defended his Polish brothers and sisters as no more anti-Semitic than any other culture of people. My wife, Tobye and our travel mate, Carol Dubrinsky, defiantly wash off the chalk and Barbara Olsman takes a picture of the clean slate that her husband, Jules, had photographed with the chalk “design”. My thought is that you can temporarily erase the offensive symbol and language, but you cannot, so easily, eradicate the stupidity and prejudice that causes some idiot to use this monument as a canvas for hatred and bigotry.

We return to the bus and drive to the Warsaw airport for dinner and a discussion of our four days in Poland. Opinions are given that the trip is powerful and necessary; one of us indicates that “camp visits” are unnecessary and that our children (as his were) should be discouraged from making such a trip. Most, respectfully, disagree. My theory is that those who ignore the past are doomed to relive it. He is, certainly, entitled to his opinion; no one has the “right” opinion.

I pen this at the airport, awaiting our flight to the Promised Land. Tonight, we leave the “darkness” and travel to the “light”. I am very excited, yet, I found Poland to be a scenically beautiful country, reborn in a democracy that seems to be working. If Yanish is an example of the “new” Poland, there is certainly “light” here, as well, because he is a knowledgeable, friendly and fine gentleman. It certainly seems that “Jewish” Poland is gone forever; that is the ultimate “darkness”, because we have learned that the community was large, close knit, and vibrant. Certainly, my “Jewish” traditions originate in Sandomierz, Poland (and, on my father’s side, Russia), a town rich in Jewish tradition, like Warsaw, Krakow, Kielce and Lublin were. There is “light” in Eretz Yisrael, but there are also a thousand points of Jewish light in many other countries, including the U.S., where survivors and other immigrants, their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren carry on their Eastern European traditions. Susan Tapper, pass me some more of your Aunt’s delicious mandel bread!!! And so it goes…

Posted by Leonard Borman
I just visited the bottom of the ocean. There, a shipwreck lay. The debris was spread over about 25 acres. Ocean currents were the wind eroding the artifacts, making the inscriptions on tombstones difficult to read. Make no mistake, it was a shipwreck. The name was Sidlowitz, and its passenger list was about 3,000.

There was a disaster. Nazis came and took the children of the deceased inhabitants to death camps. No dignified burial happened. The deceased died a second death. The ship was torpedoed and there were no rescuers and no survivors. The gravestones I saw lay untouched for about 60 years. There is no way to raise this ship. My wish is to have the ship lay quietly. The Titanic lay quiet. I was a visitor.

Here is a link to photos from Day 4:
http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day4PolandPlaszowConcentrationCampPogromIn1946AtKielceAndSidlowitzCemetery

Day 3 continued, Krakow & Auschwitz-Birkenau Death Camps: posted by Susan Tapper, Sandy & Stanley Boykansky, and Leonard Borman

Posted by Susan Tapper
I didn’t know what to expect when we went to Auschwitz-Birkenau. At first just looking at it, the buildings in Auschwitz I looked like college dormitories. The I started to walk under the famous gate that I have seen all my life in pictures. I looked at the barbed wire fence that surrounded the buildings and my body went numb.

As we entered the different buildings, I could see the horrific, inhumane way people were treated. I felt the tears come to my eyes when I saw the huge rooms filled with human hair, shoes, eye glasses, and many more items of personal use. I do not understand how this was allowed to happen! It wasn’t only the Jews, but other cultures that had to endure inhuman suffering and cruelty. I am looking forward to being in Israel There, I will not see the horrors that a whole generation had to endure. I will see our home land that stands for human rights and the freedom to be a Jew.

Posted by Sandy Boykansky
Today we had the great honor of praying at the Rema Synagogue, the synagogue of Rabbi Moses Isserles, the “Rema,” the great codifier of Jewish law. It was indeed one of the most spiritual moments of my life. To think that here, once Polish Jews from a free and rich Jewish life also prayed in this special place for centuries. We went on to the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp/death camp, only about one hour away from the Rema synagogue. What once was is no longer!! From this experience, I realize that we, as free Jews must work hard to maintain and enrich our Jewish life.

Posted by Stanley Boykansky
Of all the books I have read, movies I have seen, and lectures I have heard, none have given me the level of understanding that I have obtained by being in Auschwitz-Birkenau today. Evil was everywhere, from the barracks, to the gas chambers, to the crematoria. Hopefully with this knowledge, I can better explain the Holocaust to my family and friends. Only with knowledge can we prevent this from happening again.

Posted by Leonard Borman
How long does sadness or desperation last? Everyone goes through such periods. It is not forever, unless you lived in Europe as a Jew is World War II. Jews believed that Hitler’s rise to power was temporary. There was always the next election. Everyone would be cognizant of Hitler’s destructiveness and vote him out.

That’s what victims of the concentration and death camps thought, that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. A will to live with life’s encumbrances of disease, hatred, inhuman treatment. Others die. I can make it.

I understood that feeling as I visited Auschwitz and Birkenau. Experienced was imagining myself lined up in the morning for roll call, no chance of showering, no chance of resting because of ill health, no chance of being fed enough food to regain physical strength. To experience sadness and desperation for a month would be implausible. To have the will to fight and continue requires reaching for human courage within the deep depths of the human soul.

I had the privilege to walk out, to go to a home safe from evil and depravation. A visit to a Holocaust center is informative. Being at such a site of seeing it first hand is numbing. I imagined General Eisenhower standing in a liberated concentration camp and overseeing the live prisoners being helped, and viewing the piled corpses. I always felt he learned the depths of evil that flourished within the Nazi psyche.

Day 3, Krakow & Auschwitz-Birkenau Death Camps: posted by Barbara Horowitz, Mark Bello, Linda & Steve Jacobson, and Jules Olsman

Posted by Barbara Horowitz
We began this day as we have the others; learning about life prior to the holocaust, basically regular life with its regular trials and controversies, stresses and joys, adaptations to change and resistance to change. Then we learn about the unbelievable and try to absorb how it fits into anything we know or can understand.
We spent the morning in the city of Krakow, another city with a huge Jewish population. We visited a beautiful small orthodox shul (The Rama Synagogue) and walked through its beautiful cemetery, which was reconstructed after being destroyed during the Shoah. We heard tales of its famous rabbis and of its regular congregants. We developed a sense of what life was like. Likewise, we visited a Reform synagogue (The Temple) and heard about the beginnings of the reform movement in Krakow and the history of change within Judaism.
We walked through the main thoroughfare that was teeming with Jews prior to the Holocaust, but which now maintains outward signs of Judaism (restaurants with cholent on the menu, stores with Jewish names in the storefront signs, Hebrew writing on the menus), but the Jews themselves are no longer there. The streets are empty.

We heard about and saw signs of some righteous gentiles - the non-Jewish pharmacist that stayed open in the middle of the ghetto and Oscar Schindler's factory. One thing became clear to me - nothing is clear. The Poles were horrible to the Jews and they were also helpful. They stood by or worse when they definitely knew the worst, but they also had the highest number of righteous gentiles ( or gentiles who helped Jews in some way) than any other European country.
And then it was on to Auschwitz. The sheer size of Auschwitz and Birkenau (both part of one huge complex of 40 different complexes) was impossible to take in. 90,000 people could be housed in Birkenau at one time! And it was never finished - plans were there to add more and more to it. The priority was to use us and get rid of us as fast as possible. It is incomprehensible. Unlike Majdanek, Auschwitz was not as it had been then. The outer buildings are standing, but the inside is cleaned up, painted, renovated to a museum. Even with the exhibits, it did not feel like what it was. However, Birkenau still felt like what it was and several of the buildings were reconstructed as they were. Again, as yesterday, I felt a heavy weight descend upon me and it became hard to walk, hard to move, hard to breath. And the same smell as in Majdanek was present in the Birkenau buildings.

And the unanswerable question came up as it has so many times before. How many geniuses did we lose? Could one of those people or their descendants have cured cancer, negotiated world peace, added immeasurably to our world? What would have been the effect on Israel? What a waste.

Posted by Mark Bello
From darkness to light, back to darkness and back to light, only to return to darkness? That is the feeling I had today. Fresh from yesterday’s emotionally difficult visit to the Majdanek death camp in Lublin, our day, today, began with a visit to a 16th century synagogue. There, we freely and joyfully davened shacharit in this place where hundreds of thousands of Jews from happier times probably engaged in the same activity. What a contrast! Next, a visit to the old cemetery next to the synagogue. The cemetery is in very bad shape and was a victim of Nazi vandalism. However, desecrated tombstones were recovered and returned to the cemetery and put to powerful use by the local Jewish community. The cemetery is surrounded by a stone wall; where did the stone come from, you ask? It came from pieces of the desecrated headstones. Thus, that destroyed is suddenly reborn. If the cemetery represents darkness, the rebirth of the stone certainly represents light. Visits to a local pharmacy (now a museum in its and its owner’s honor) in the old Jewish Ghetto of Krakow, and to the Schindler factory where, in both cases, gentiles risked Nazi persecution to assist Jews. For me, these two places crackled with history and represented more light in the darkness.

These visits were shortly followed by a visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau, and return to the darkness. Darkness begins with a terrible feeling, as I enter, that this hallowed ground, where millions met their deaths in unspeakable horror, is being viewed by its curators and its visitors as a theme park. There is a hotel and a hot dog and beer stand on the premises. There are people, everywhere, laughing, joking and taking pictures of themselves, smiling, at the front entrance and in front of gallows. Inside the administration building, a child puts a coin in a coffee vending machine and enjoys the hot chocolate his coins purchased. This experience stands in sharp contrast to the barren and rustic solemnity of Majdanek.

We are greeted by our guide, a local blonde (German looking) who, after introductions, eerily commands: “follow me”. All of us fell into line and followed her and I could not help feeling that someone barked out similar orders over 65 years earlier to my unfortunate brothers and sisters.

We pass through the famous “Arbeit Macht Frei” entrance gate; tourists are taking pictures, smiling. We take a solemn, group photo as we enter. I am struck by a series of exhibits in barrack halls, behind glass partitions. A pre-construction “architectural” drawing of the “planned” crematorium and gas chamber adorns one wall. A mountain of Cyclone B cans, used in the gas chamber death machines are displayed in one room. There are powerful exhibits of a hill of orthopedic limbs, removed from the disabled, before they were brutally murdered for the crimes of being non-Arian and unable to work. Other exhibits contain piles of eye glasses, taleisim, and cooking utensils. Another room houses another mountain, this one is of human hair. And still another houses luggage, carried by prisoners upon their arrival. These bags have names written on them and I can’t help wondering if survivors or family members of lost relatives have seen their family names in this troubling and powerful display.

However, for me, the most powerful expression of the human carnage that is a death camp is found in a simple exhibit of shoes. I was struck, yesterday, by an exhibit of shoes at Majdanek, a barrack full of old, dirty, empty shoes; hundreds of thousands of shoes are on display in a very dark and dingy barrack. They are contained behind a metal grating and parts of them stick out of the grating. I touch them as I walk the endless corridor of shoes and I am “belted in the face” with the realization that with old shoes come real people who once wore them. The Auschwitz exhibit is behind glass and not as horrid as the Majdanek exhibit, but it again “belts me in the face”.

As we step out onto the grounds, I am struck by the sheer enormity of the place. There are barracks as far as the eye can see, and maps and railroad tracks intricately plotting routes from “everywhere in Europe” to this horrible place. Death is all around us as we walk from barrack to barrack and along the railroad tracks, following the routes our brothers and sisters took to their deaths. I am, again, struck with the genius, enormity and peaceful beauty of the setting and can’t help but wonder why such genius and potential beauty could not have been utilized for a good purpose instead of one of unimaginable cruelty. Our walk ends at the end of the tracks; at the beginning of a series of destroyed crematoriums and gas chambers (destroyed by the Nazis and (one) by the Jews at or near liberation day). We learn that thousands at a time were executed in this brutal manner and the process of mass destruction was repeated over and over until millions had perished. Our guide ends her presentation at a memorial for those who perished in the gas chambers and crematoriums and we pray, at the site, for those who perished there. Our walk back to the administration center follows the train tracks and I was moved as I watched you, Rabbi Berkun, discard the travel path and defiantly walk the tracks to freedom. I don’t know if you intended the symbolism, but your “trip” was excitingly symbolic to me.

The bus ride back to the hotel is solemn. I spend the time reading an account of a survivor experience at both of the camps we visited. Others on our trip have commented that you cannot experience what victims experienced without having been at these two horrid places. I respect their opinions, but cannot agree with them. We walked in and out of both camps, freely, without fear. We enjoyed each others’ company; we laughed, cried and prayed together. We volunteered to visit; we were not dragged out of our homes, forced to leave our families and possessions; we were not forced to watch our loved ones terrorized, brutalized and killed before our very eyes; we were not forced to experience fear, starvation, indignity, torture, and, ultimately, death. We left and enjoyed a marvelous dinner at an excellent restaurant named Szara (recommended by our guide-“the best fish soup I have ever tasted; it will knock your socks off”-and he was right!). We returned to our elegant hotel and enjoyed a restful night’s sleep. Visiting these death camps does not help me to “understand their experience”.

As I start to nod off to sleep, I am struck by the ultimate irony: Auschwitz was extremely crowded today. People from different origins, religions, cultures, ethnic backgrounds, life experiences, age groups, and countries all converged on this place. They CHOSE to be at Auschwitz on this beautiful day in May. Over 65 years ago, the same thing happened. People from all over converged on this place, but not of their own free will and certainly not for a “one-day” visit (unless they were immediately murdered). They were dragged out of their homes and piled into overcrowded, unsanitary cattle cars and dumped at this location to be tortured and, in most cases, killed. Indeed, most died of unspeakable atrocities. Others were left with permanent mental and physical scarring. This is, indeed, the ultimate irony.

With deep respect and humility,
Mark.

Posted by Linda and Steve Jacobson
We began the day visiting what was once the center of Jewish life in Krakow, Poland. We said shacharit in the synagogue of the “Rema” - Rabbi Moshe Isserles, but the silence was deafening. Almost an entire town that is like a museum. That is how to describe Krakow. We visited the synagogue of Rabbi Moshe Isserles. We visited the attached cemetery, saw the reform temple, and another synagogue. We saw the sign for the “Jewish Cultural Festival.” Who attends, you might ask? It’s like a tribute to a lost people, but the people still live, just not here. There are remnants in the buildings, the “Jewish style” restaurants, the shops with Jewish names, but none of them have anything to do with Jews, really. They are once holy places without a people to care for them, use them, enjoy them. The large, ornate reform Temple is the host for the opening and closing of the Jewish Cultural Festival. There is a club that plays Klezmer music, but none of the musicians are Jewish. Strange, no? Such an eerie feeling to see.

We left the center of town, following the path of the Jews who once lived here. First we saw the remnant of the ghetto wall, the famous “pharmacy” where one righteous gentile stayed and did what he could to help the Jews of the ghetto. We moved on to see the Oskar Schindler factory, where the fortunate 1,000 or so were able to work and survive the war. That was the end of Krakow proper.

From there we moved out to the countryside, a little over an hour’s drive, to Oswiecim (in Polish), Auschwitz in German. What began in 1940 as a camp for political prisoners from Russia and Poland, soon became hell on earth for all those emptied from its tracks. Auschwitz I is a museum, much the same as it has been since 1947 when it first opened. All that remains of the original camp is the front, the brick buildings, which almost look like college dormitories, belying the unspeakable horrors within their walls. Each building is a living testament, horrific to see, of the unspeakable truth which was the evil of Nazi Germany.

Each “block” depicts the dehumanization of humankind in incomprehensible ways. To see cases and cases of eyeglasses, human hair which was shaved before the women were gassed, hairbrushes, combs, children’s clothing and toys, suitcases with names and addresses, pictures of the early “inmates” tries to show a reality that you can’t even believe is real. The deafening silence crying out from the cases is equaled by the deafening silence of those of us walking through. Why walk through? Read survivor testimony, it must be enough, but yet, it is so incomprehensible even when you see it in front of your eyes that you can’t believe it really happened. The descriptions of tortures, gassing, cremation (which, by the way, was too slow, so bodies were piled onto human pyres of heaps of 1,000 or so,) goes contrary to anything you can possibly imagine other living breathing people (dare I call them that?) could even conceive, of, let alone carry out. Even our museum guide, who I imagine does this on a daily basis, seemed seriously affected each time she spoke. You can only wonder where the rest of the world was.

Where were the leaders of the free world who had the plans and pictures of these atrocities smuggled to them but chose not to stop the atrocities against a ”civilian” population? You see, it was not a “war” problem, but a “civilian” problem. The average life expectancy in Auschwitz I, if you were fortunate enough to be “selected” to “work” could be anywhere from 2 weeks to 6 months. Disease, starvation, torture, the list goes on, were sure ways to a short life. Auschwitz, geographically, was central to all of the other cities in Europe, so the rail lines could conveniently and efficiently deliver victims at a rate of thousands per trainload. At the height of 1944, when Hungary’s Jews were sent to Birkenau, easily 1,000 were gassed at a time, which took only 5 minutes. The disposal of the bodies were much more time consuming, thus the human pyres, which could be smelled and seen for miles.

Auschwitz II, Birkenau stretches further than the eye can see. Most of the actual barracks are gone, but chimneys have been rebuilt on each end of the original foundations so that you can see the magnitude of a place that housed 90,000 prisoners at one time. In the words of a young survivor, in the time it took him to make 3 “throw-ins” on a makeshift soccer field at Birkenau, an entire trainload (3,000) people had been emptied and disappeared, right behind him. These are the ghosts that inhabit the largest cemetery in the world. These are the souls whose lives were so tragically lost for no reason.

Poland, a deafeningly silent graveyard of a vibrant, lost community, not only of Polish Jews, but Polish gentiles, gypsies, eastern European Jewry as it once was. It is a vacant reminder of lives that were, and never will be. It bears witness to families that were never born, lives never completed, hopes and dreams never fulfilled. Yet, here we are, and I believe that as we walk here, we bear witness to the Nazis’ failure, because we are here to tell what happened, and to perpetuate the truth for generations to come.

Y’hei zichronam baruch . . may all their memories always be remembered for a blessing.

Posted by Jules Olsman
There is absolutely no way for a person to prepare for a visit to Auschwitz- Birkenau. No matter how many books to may have read on the Holocaust, no matter how many museums you have visited or the number of movies you have seen, the sheer horror of the camp takes your breath away. The only appropriate words came during Muki's readings and Rabbi Berkun's leading a memorial service at the base of the monument at Birkenau.

Here is a link to photos from Day 3:
http://picasaweb.google.com/jonberkun/Day3KrakowAuschwitzBirkenauMay22007