Krakow, Galicia

Autumn Sun

Krakow has been many things to me in the two weeks that I've been embraced by its midieval charms.  It has been a place of rest - sleeping in until 9am or later is a luxury that had evaded me for at least a decade.  It has been a place of new understandings - life 20 years after the fall of Communism is something that you can read about in a book, but cannot comprehend until you witness it firsthand.  And finally, it has been a place of self-awareness - with each passing day I get closer to the truth of what brought me here and what I need to accomplish during these precious months that I have away from home.

Tomorrow I move into an apartment in the center of Krakow for one month.  Finally, I can ditch the perpetual state of transience, unpack my suitcase, and pretend that I actually live somewhere.  I spent my first week here at an Airbnb listing in the center of town with a hostess who goes by the name Goga.  Her place was more like a hostel in that there were several rooms occupied by short-term visitors from all over the world all sharing one toilet and shower.  Week 2 I moved to another Airbnb property a bit outside the center in a neighborhood caled Podgorze.  That's where I am now.  I'm in the bedroom of a one-bedroom apartment; the host is sleeping in the living room on the sofa.  In both cases, the hosts have been great about giving me tips for visiting and local insights into Krakow life.

The Old Cemetery @ Remuh Synagoge

The main focus of my explorations so far has been Jewish history, and there is no lack of it here in the heart of Southern Poland, which was once known as Galicia.  Apart from the obvious emotions one would expect from seeing centeries-old synagogues and cemeteries, and more contemporary WWII relics, I cannot help but feel a hollowness among these sites.  I know that they were at one time functional and full of life/death, but today they are only museums and memorials.  With little to no modern day community here, these places feel almost like a movie set.  It is an overwhelming disappointment to feel this way, as I do yearn to feel a stronger emotional connection with these places, names, graves, memorial plaques, etc.  After all, this is the general area where my 2x great grandfather Rosenblum came from, so I imagine that some of my distant relatives experienced a Jewish existence here.

Last Surviving Segment of Ghetto Wall

Since I've bought myself another month here, I haven't hit all the major tourist sites yet.  I'm saving Auschwitz for a cold, damp, grey day more befitting of the place.  I can't say that I'm in a hurry to get there.  I went to the Wielizcka Salt Mine a couple days back, which is about 40 minutes SE of Krakow and is a designated UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It has been in operation for 700+ years and its vast labyrinth of tunnels and chambers hundreds of feet below the ground were impressive.  The highlight was the salt cathedral, where even the chandeliers were made of rock salt.  Unfortunately, I didn't snap any photos because I spent so much on the entrance ticket that I couldn't afford to pay an extra $3 for the privelege of operating a camera.  Now THAT'S Jewish heritage for you!

So now it's time to settle in and get a daily routine established.  I can go grocery shopping, entertain guests, hole-up on a dreary day with a good book and a cup of tea, and go to a gym.  I'll also be planning my trip to the Ukraine, which I expect will happen at the end of October, and trying to figure out how the other places (Budapest, Israel, ?) fit into the grand scheme of my travels.  One thing is set in stone already - Istanbul for Christmas, can't wait!

Thanks to those of you who have been prodding me to update the blog.  With Facebook, email, and Skype, I've got a lot of communications going on so it's harder to juggle than I had imagined.  BTW, I have so many photos and cannot share them all here...so they're on Facebook.

Transatlantic Passage

I've got some catching up to do...first I'll recap my last days in Boston, then I'll tell you a bit about my 9-hour layover in Iceland, followed by reflections on time spent in London, Amsterdam, and Eindhoven, before I reveal my first impressions of Krakow where I've been for the last 2 days.


Baker Street Cemetery in West Roxbury

I truly took advantage of my time in Boston.  As you would expect from me, I visited the cemetery where my great grandfather Jacob Fleishman and his sister Ida are buried.  I had been once before to this cemetery, but lost the pictures when my desktop computer blew up a couple years ago.  This is a beautifully maintained cemetery and easy to navigate due to the cleanly demarkated boundaries between the different temple societies, trade societies, and landsmanschaften.

A few days after visiting the cemetery, I learned from my Aunt Pearl (Ida's daughter) that there were at least two other Fleishman siblings who stayed behind in Russia (present-day Ukraine).  I shudder to imagine what fate they were met with.  Maybe they were lucky and escaped by shunning their jewish identity or by hiding in Siberia similar to what the Barishpolsky cousins did.  One can hope, at least.  There is unfortunately nobody alive now who can shed any light.

Barishpolsky Cousins

Speaking of the Barishpolsky cousins, I met Veronika and her daughter Katia who came up to Newton from Sharon to say hello thanks to an introduction made by Julia, the cousin in New York who is also Veronika's sister.  It was such a great visit and I really feel fortunate to be able to connect with people from such a different cultural background and life story.  Family ties are incredible!  Julia and Veronika are still very much in contact with family in the Ukraine, so who knows, maybe I'll get to meet some family when I get there.

On my last day in Boston (Sept 5), the fear of what was to come began to set in.  I was not expecting this to be my emotional state upon departure, rather, I thought I would be jumping out of my body with excitement as I had been for many weeks prior.  Somehow, I wasn't fully prepared for the finality of leaving the country, even though it was the very core of what I had concocted to pry myself from the doldrums that I was experiencing in LA.  Despite my cold feet, I boarded my plane and headed off to see family and friends in London. 


Geothermal Power Plant Adjacent to Blue Lagoon

I enjoyed my brief visit to the Blue Lagoon in Iceland during my stopover and wondered if I'd be able to stay awake to make my connecting flight to London.  The combination of the red eye flight and the great music selection on Icelandair gave me only 2 hours of sleep to work with.  I ended up taking a little nap in a deserted area of the airport, which gave me just enough energy awareness to be able to get from Heathrow Airport to Aldbury where my Cousin Tami lives.  I stayed with Tami, her husband, and twins for four glorious days in the Old Post Cottage.  What a lovely village they live in, especially with the unseasonably warm September weather.  We partied, we vegged, and I observed potty-training at it's finest.  Even got to see my Dutch friends Heleen and Maarten and their two girls one afternoon.  Thanks for schlepping all the way up to Aldbury guys!

The Old Post Cottage

I don't have any photos from my time in Amsterdam because it was raining intermittently for the two days I was there and I didn't want to short-circuit my phone.  I am going to avoid hostels as much as possible from here on out.  Sharing a tiny room with 5 stinky Portuguese college students that snore all night is not my idea of a good time.  Don't even get me started on the communal bathroom.  I would rather cut my trip short by spending more money on accommodations than to go bare bones and be uncomfortable and feel like a creepy old man.  Lesson learned.

Amsterdam is the same as I remember it, except all the people are missing.  No more Sjaak the flower guy, no more Tjebbe the hair stylist, etc.   No more visiting Nance, Mondi, and Dion on whatever gracht they lived on.  I would live here again in a heartbeat BUT would need to convince all the characters from 10 years ago to return with me.  I did get to see Nance and her family on my last day in the Netherlands in Eindhoven, where they moved about 5 or 6 years ago I think.  It was a short visit, but always great to catch up with someone who means a lot to me and always will.  Although we don't see eachother often enough, our friendship has endured thanks to a mysterious connection. 

Here's a teaser for the next installment: 

Polish beer, beet broth, and pierogi