A new journey: Bogota I have arrived!

Once a wanderer, always a wanderer.  Three years ago I took off for Eastern Europe conversing with Jewish communities about identity.  Little did I know how much those conversations would become part of my identity and world view.  These past years found me physically in New York, but mentally in transit.  Last Yom Kippur I decided it was time to reconcile my mental and physical states and temporarily changing countries.  That’s the cliff note version of how I now find myself in Columbia – looking for an English teaching job.  Like I said – cliff note version.

 

Every country has their ‘coca cola’ sign – perhaps most appropriate here? This was taken at the modern art museum

This is the beginning of conversational journey 2.0:  I’ll be connecting with the Jewish community here (as soon as I get security approved – more on that later).  Thought I expect to take lots of side trips on this road including staying here for several months and teaching English (I hope).   Columbia is a country in flux, with a presidential vision to become the premiere seat of Latin America.  Increasing English fluency is part of that vision, and I hope to be part of it.   Three days into my ‘trip’, I’m feeling differences between Latin America and Eastern Europe:  or is it my filter?  Is it just that I feel different? I suppose time will tell.

One of main squares filled with families enjoying the ‘shows’. Yes, those are llamas.

If you’re wondering why I didn’t go back to Eastern Europe to teach English – good question:  it is hard for Americans (with no experience) to find jobs.  Companies prefer to hire people with EU passports with no need for visas.  Besides, I now have the opportunity to explore a new part of the world, with a different history and very different culture.

The city center is filled with stalls and was crowded with Saturday shoppers. Different – but with a touch of NYC’s Chinatown

One thing is for sure – language – or more specifically a common language – is key. When I first traveled to Soviet Eastern Europe over thirty years ago, my non-verbal communication and an occasional word got me by with shared laughter and (I think) understanding.  The power of youth prevented the lack of a common language from being a barrier.  Three decades later, in 5772, it was verbal communication that secured my trip’s meaning and connection.  Lucky for me, English is, and is becoming, the international language.

English need = Linda’s job opportunity!

As my 2014/5775 trip began on LAN airlines from Miami to Bogotá, English was the obvious step-child.  Translations were rushed and not well enunciated.  You’ll be happy to know I made it through the flight – and more importantly through customs with my less than mediocre Spanish.  Seeing the sites requires open eyes, listening to stories requires an open mind – and a common language.   I’m dusting off and polishing my Spanish with the expectation I’ll understand the flight attendants on my December return flight.

Bogotá has a superior network of art museums. Most famously, the Museo de Botero, which highlights Botero’s work. A larger version of these statues welcome visitors to the Time Warner building in NYC’s Columbus Circle.

I’m used to diversity in New York.  A daily ride on the subway was shared with people and languages from all over the world.  Still, it was my English and my culture that kept me safe while feeding my sense of worldliness.  Non-english speakers traveling to the states were seen huddled around maps on street corners.  They were unable to ask for directions.  What a lonely way to travel – as I’m experiencing right now.  I’m doing a darn good job of just smiling and nodding.

I’m looking forward to enjoying the natural beauty of this diverse country.

So I start this new journey without a clear path or even final destination.   I’ll listen and learn from those I meet, while listening and learning from my own experiences as a newly minted expat teacher.    Stay tuned and share any advice or thoughts on teaching abroad or learning a new language.

Wishing you great conversations!

 

 

Harlem’s Gospel experience and invitation

The Apollo theater, Harlem’s famous landmark was initially home to Yiddish theater before launching the career of musical giants including Michael Jackson!

On a hot August morning,  buses line Harlem’s 125th Street as hundreds of people snake single-file past street vendors and residents before dodging down side streets in search of spirituality.  Spirituality in Gospel music.

Soaking up the cultural and spiritual Gospel experience is a must-do for NYC tourists and residents.   A to-do that took this New Yorker 11 years to accomplish!  Along with fifty members of NYC’s

138th Street, Strivers Row was where the wealthy lived in Harlem 100 years ago

Shorewalker’s, we looped through Harlem’s Striver’s Row on 138th St. on our way

Striver’s Row @138th Street in Harlem, NYC.

to a large square building more reminiscent of a government building or bank than of a church.

Fitting I suppose for a religious institution.

Mount Olivet Baptist Church, at 120th Street and Lenox Avenue (now Malcolm X Boulevard), was built  in 1907 as Temple Israel for German Jews. Its four trunk like Corinthian columns could be mistaken for something out of imperial Rome were it not for the Stars of David nestled in their leafy capitals – and the Stars of David in the balcony section and the Ten Commandments and Hebrew inscription above the baptismal pool that was once the Ark. The synagogue was designed by Arnold W. Brunner, architect of Congregation Shearith Israel, the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, at Central Park West and 70th Street.

Hundreds of us – literally – are crowded into the back of the sanctuary of this exotic venue.  We’re sweaty and makeshift fans courtesy of the programs are both relieving and mildly distracting.

Stars of David atop the pillars of Ephases Baptist Church. Respectful of the service, I didn’t take any pictures inside.

It takes only minutes for us to sink into the warm ambience and spiritual energy that makes Gospel a full experience.   Four women singing around the piano in the front left, belt out songs, challenging us to participate. 

The question is, how do we participate? 

Do we sing? Clap? Stand and sway? 

Is there a protocol and how do we learn it?

Congregants rise to shake hands in welcome to  each other while slowly making their way to us visitors.  This is the easy part: it takes little enticement for us to eagerly reach out for connection, touch.

Many of Harlem’s churches, like Mount Olivet reveal rich reminders of its Jewish past, brief as it was.  In the balcony, emerald-green Stars of David are centered in the stain glass windows of this former synagogue.  Front and center, the Ten Commandments atop the ark, held the

Manhattan Grace Tabernacle in Harlem with its Magen David. The writing in the arch is Hebrew

Torah’s and now houses the Baptismal pool.  Hebrew lettering arched above reminds all of the German and Eastern European Jews who called this sanctuary and neighborhood home from the late 1800’s to the 1920’s.

This Gospel Church’s Jewish past  surprised many in my group.  Yet, human ‘migrations’ are the universal story of cities large and small, for better or worse.

Neighborhoods change, seemingly in a NY minute here in the Big Apple.  Subtle reminders remain, requiring focused attention and observation.  In Harlem alone about a dozen churches began their spiritual life as synagogues!

Former Allen St. Synagogue in the once Jewish Lower East Side and now Chinatown is a  Buddhist Temple and 99 cent store

‘In the name of G-d has sparked so many wars, yet sanctuaries fluidly change religious affiliation.  Both from year to year, and more often, from day-to-day.  My Kabbalat Shabbat, (Friday night services welcoming the Sabbath) are spent in a Presbyterian church.

There’s peace in those pews.  If we can pray in the same space, can’t we play nice?

As I sway and clap back in Harlem on that hot Sunday, letting my body blend with the music, my mind wonders and wanders: why don’t tourists  include Jewish services, or other religious services to their cultural experience?

Here in 2013, post-apocolyptic-Mayan-miss, there’s a perfect opportunity to understand and connect with others.  To develop and grow our empathy. 

If we can’t literally walk in someone else’s shoes to grow and develop empathy, it’s possible to pray in someone else’s pews. 

Have you had the opportunity to pray in another house of worship? 

What did you learn about your own religion and sense of spirituality?

Here’s to a year of peace, empathy, and, connection!

From Moscow about Love: identity Talk in the Park

What part of your life would you change for love?

Why would you  change your beliefs and identity?

How do you know if what you changed for is ‘real’?

 I meet M. in NYC’s Bryant Park where as ‘The Coach is IN:  A Talk in the Park:  people present situations and needs.  I  ‘coach’ success strategies to help them resolve conflict, improve communication, and  focus careers.

I think of it as my new conversational journey:  http://communicationessentials.wordpress.com.    

M. and her friend L. huddled over their MAC’s debating ‘to be or not to be coached’at the table next to me.  Insinuating myself into their conversation,  I had myself two new ‘clients’.  (like Peanuts’ Lucy, I charge a nickel so “clients” must be in “air quotes”) http://communicationessentials.wordpress.com. 

M. and L’s  friendship begun on a bus to Boston  has lasted through time and distance – a fact that speaks volumes about them both.  Interestingly, both had relationship questions but at different ends of the ‘love’ spectrum. http://communicationessentials.wordpress.com/2012/07/12/friends-after-…ch-is-in-vol-5/

M’s in a relationship and she’s scared.  Fear is causing a conflict:  internally.   

This fear has evolved in the last year – it wouldn’t have been relevant before.  A Moscow Jew,  she has been learning and becoming involved with Judaism (it sounded like through Chabad).

http://www.chabad.org/centers/default_cdo/aid/118309/jewish/Bronnaya-Synagogue-Agudas-Chasidei-Chabad.htm

One of Moscow’s synagogues: Choral Synagogue

Friday nights find her in Shabbat Services these days.  Her beliefs, life style and identity have changed.  She now works for a Jewish organization, taking young people to Israel on Birthright/Taglit trips.  www.birthrightisrael.com

The Friday we spoke would be the first Shabbat not spent in a synagogue in a year.  She wondered how she would feel, already missing the sanctuary services offered.

M’s complications:  love and religion.  She’s dating a young man from her synagogue, a man she was friends with for months.  They like each other – a lot.

Her fear is NOT about whether the relationship will last. (she knows it’s a real possibility).

Remember her conflict is internal.  It’s about her changing at her pace. Her boyfriend is more observant, observing dietary laws (kosher) and the Sabbath (Shabbat).  For them to be together she would have to be equally observant.  Now she  attends Shabbat services,  but is she ready for more?  What does she want?  She’s not sure.

Her fear:  being told what or how to do things.  She doesn’t want to change for the wrong (read:  not her) reasons.  This tug-of-war wraps pulls at her mind  and emotions:  she loves shrimp but might  be willing to be Kosher.  He can keep Shabbat, but she may still want to see a Saturday movie with her friends.

Optimistically she questions: Perhaps he’ll change and meet her half way?  She knows the answer.

As her afternoon coach, I can only offer strategies to understand and then

Me with my coaching sign in Bryant Park!

communicate her needs.  Providing a framework to sort through her thoughts and feelings, I leave her to do the hard work.

While M’s story is not unique, I’ve heard  50 shades of it since my conversational journey last fall,  amazement at this movement’s magnitude continues.  

Throughout Eastern Europe, Jews are exploring  long hidden, forgotten, ignored Judaism.   Throughout Russia young people are exploring (all) religion, dealing with the ‘usual’ debate over who is ‘legally’ Jewish.   A generation after the fall of communism  people have the freedom to ‘wake up’ and stretch their beliefs.  Religion, and faith can be explored and expressed.

I’m reminded again how easy it is to take my Judaism, my freedom to believe, for granted.   My fear:  how easy it is to store aspects of my identity until they’re needed or wanted.

M. is strong and determined.  She’ll maintain, grow and develop her identity, discovering  who she is and who she is meant to be.  I hope I can do the same.

One bit of (ironic) news about Eastern European Jewry heard while docenting at  Museum at Eldridge Street:   A., an Israeli-German woman living in Hamburg, shared  all (almost) synagogues in Germany are Orthodox!  Before WWII, Reform Judaism began there.  

New Jewish congregants are moving into Germany from ‘the East’.  The only reform synagogue is the Orienenburger Synagogue, http://www.jg-

The Orienenburger or Neue Synagogue in Berlin is home to a beautiful and welcoming egalitarian service (just be sure to get on a list to get in!). The beautiful facade is all that is left of the synagogue which was destroyed during Kristallnacht in 1938. Germany has a GROWING Jewish population, only recently publishing a Jewish newspaper for the first time since WWII!

berlin.org/en/judaism/synagogues/oranienburger-strasse.html   is egalitarian. The  Cantor and Rabbi are women, lead beautiful and welcoming services.    I attended several services here when visiting Berlin,  services which felt like ‘home’.

‘Miss Holocaust Survivor’: Celebrate Beauty!

Beauty is all around us and just because we seek it doesn’t mean we see it.  The key is in the definition (of beauty) and the hope and expectation: ‘I’ll know it when I see it’.

Celebrating beauty: Hava Hershkovitz crowned ‘Miss Holocaust Survivor’

There is so much pressure and unrealistic expectations of beauty thanks to fashion mags and the silver screen.  Then there is Of course the ultimate celebration and proclamation of beauty:   beauty contests.

I won’t criticize beauty contests here and now .  This post is about celebrating one  important, unusual, and  very controversial contest:  ‘Miss Holocaust Survivor’.

14  women aged  74 – 97 competed on Friday, June 28th, in Haifa, Israel for the crown of most ‘beautiful’ Holocaust survivor.  The criteria was  (largely) on their survival story and lifetime work.

Is a beauty pageant the answer to celebrating these women?  If it reminds us of the beauty of survival and the strength of the human spirit, I say yes.

“This place is full of survivors. It puts us at the center of attention so people will care. It’s not easy at this age to be in a beauty contest, but we‘re all doing it to show that we’re still here,” the silver-haired Hershkovitz said.  (Hava Hershkovitz was crowned the winner!)

“I have the privilege to show the world that Hitler wanted to exterminate us and we are alive. We are also enjoying life. Thank God it’s that way,” added Esther Libber, a 74-year-old runner-up who fled her home in Poland as a child, hid in a forest and was rescued by a Polish woman. She said she lost her entire immediate family.

Pageant’s many critics  felt focusing on beauty belittled the gravity of the Holocaust.  Others felt the sponsoring cosmetic companies ‘making up’ the contestants were in it for their own gain. I say focus on redefining beauty.   I think this is an opportunity to really, finally, understand  ‘beauty comes from within’.

A BBC listener commented on Friday’s story, ‘I can’t believe people came out of Auschwitz smiling’ (as a contest critique).  Based on my chilly October day tour last year, I couldn’t believe people came out at all.  https://identity5772.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/from-unimaginable-to-awe/

Imagine being able to survive such dehumanizing and horrific conditions, to survive and raise families, contribute to society, build the state of Israel, and have the humor to compete in a beauty contest.    I was and am filled with awe.

Survival takes strength.  If that’s not beauty, what is?   I think about how ‘difficult’ it is to ‘survive’ in today’s economic downturn.  In tough times it’s easy to shrug off shows of beauty,  diminishing (my own) strength.   Imagine  holding onto beauty in the depths of your soul in a death camp, partisan forest, or a root cellar.

300 interested contestants obviously survived with strength and dignity.   They  deserve my respect for their example to primp and preen and flaunt their beauty .

There are about 200,000 (aging)   Holocaust survivors still alive in Israel.

Sadly, Genocides continue.

‘Never Again’.  The Holocaust wasn’t just about extermination – it is about miraculous survival.

The Nazi’s and their collaborators showed the worst of human nature.  Survivors, the best.  Survival of the fittest!  Winner,  Ms. Hershkovitz, beautifully reminds us:  ‘We’re still here.’

How do you define beauty? 

Is this an appropriate way to honor Holocaust survivors?   Share your ideas!

http://www.foxnews.com/world/2012/06/29/israel-crowns-miss-holocaust-survivor/

Pictures of Zagreb’s Jewish community

This gallery contains 28 photos.

‘We’re still here’ was a frequent refrain during my October conversational journey with Eastern European Jews.   Conversations unsurfaced pride, wonder, and questions.  Questions continue to blossom as I sift through notes and pictures in the comfort of local coffeehouses.    Zagreb, a last minute substitution  as my time … Continue reading →

Debora’s Naked Identity: Rated ‘G’

Keep your pants on:  there is no nudity in this post!

This says it all. Thanks to http://www.topix.com

Would you veer from success?   Change an aspect of yourself, one that others label as your identity, an identity that earns you money and fame?

I guess it's up to each of us to make use of all the colors in our palettes. Hard to do in a world that worships black

Can an artist’s expression journey seamlessly through mediums touching all the senses?  Can art successfully fossilized on penthouse walls evolve and breathe new life into distant space?

If an artist’s identity

is  her mode of expression in

paint AND lush felt AND thoughtful painted word,

how will others define her artistic identity?

And THE biggest question of all:

 WHY veer from success???

For more on the origins of this quote: http://dar-al-masnavi.blogspot.com/2009/05/dar-al-masnavi-re-appear-as-you-are_1721.html

I say if you want to know what an artist would do, ask the artist herself.  Debora personifies Rumi’s quote:  ‘Either appear as you be or be as you appear’ and veering is part of her identity!  Tall, slender, with  hair radiating exuberance we chatted over Turkish coffee.

Fascinated, my imagination turned Debora’s words to rich images as she shared her body of work, describing colorful canvas, lush felt

Like 'A Sweeter Stride' on Facebook to hasten its publication! (And nibble on excerpts!)

roses, installations of sound and word, and her most recent offering: a memoir.  ‘A Sweeter Stride’ unveils her captivating journey through ( occasional) colliding worlds of art and love in NYC over the last two decades and promises to be a fascinating ride.

Like it on Facebook:  ‘A Sweeter Stride’ to hasten its pilgrimage to print.

http://www.pubslush.com/book/view/179

Our discussion turned to her evolving

I think it's important to remember that art is participatory. Each of us creates beauty in what we see, make, and do.

artistic identity and colleagues’ fear and trepidation.  Others question how she will be ‘found’ post-art form migration.

Debora’s artistic metamorphosis is identity evolution.  New creative expression in naturally selected new niches.

My conversational journey exploring Jewish Identity unveiled identity evolution as  ‘Naked Identity’.  Surely there is more to that than meets the eye.

Can ‘Naked Identity’ be shielded from prying eyes by donning the latest fad

Something to keep in mind as we go spring clothes shopping.Image from library.sc.edu

and like the Emperor recreating himself with a new suit of clothes?

Or like Debora (and the owners of stories heard on my journey – see previous posts), fling off the trappings of others’ perceptions and flaunt that nakedness.

The Emperor wasn’t the only one who discovered, less is more when it comes to  ‘Naked Identity’.  Naked, a mid-winter tree stripped and bare, shows

'Naked Identity': Birch trees in winter. Without adornment of rich green leaves, fragrant flowers or succulent fruit, deciduous trees bare their souls so to speak in the heart of winter, taking care of themselves, not caring to entertain or enthrall or support others. Naked, the heart, soul and true identity of a tree is the reason for each new spring creation and display of beauty, taken down each winter. (thanks Wikipedia for the picture)

the tree’s true essence:  thin, gangly  limbs awkwardly – no ridiculously – jutting out from its scarred,  bulbous trunk.

Against a grey winter sky, urging the donning of warm woolens, the tree bares its branches taunting us to love it or leave it.

Trees remind us ‘Naked Identity’ is devoid of lush green finery  and shots of color and is  about the tree doing for, and being about, the tree.

Naked, the tree is still herself – her true self,  just without care of what others think and need.  Naked, she is able to build internal resources, building strength to branch out in new directions, seeking new opportunities (for sunlight) while being firmly rooted in where and who she is (physically and metaphorically).

True beauty is found in ‘Naked Identity’.

 Deborah’s art, like the tree, branches out, seeking glimmers of opportunity,  while firmly  rooted to her artistic core. Beauty drawn from internal resources.

‘Hidden’ Eastern European Jews, shared their identity evolution to Naked Identity is rooted in Judaism.  (see previous posts about my conversational journey – identity5772)

We are all artists, of a sort.  Our challenge is to get naked and bare our soul to uncover our core identity.   And as we know, getting naked is the easy part. 

Looking inward, nourishing our roots,  silent and uncaring of expectations and needs of others, we can discover our gangly, bulbous perfections before going out on a limb to sell new creations.    As the days get longer, my dreams ache to branch out, seeking new opportunities, hoping my roots are strong and deep enough.

  What feeds the root of your creations?

 As spring beckons, where will you branch out to uncover and celebrate your ‘Naked Identity?

Best wishes for a lushful spring!

Safe Havens: Partisan Forests

The safety of forests! Over 20,000 Jewish and 30,000 Russian partisans found forests to offer refuge and lauch resistance during WWII

Traveling from Berlin to Warsaw and beyond, passing acre after acre of Birch tree forests, my imagination morphed  forests into  havens  for hiding partisans.  These 

Furst is a great historical spy novelist providing insight and intrigue into WWII. Try 'The Polish Officer'

visual images leapt from the page (Alan Furst) and the screen (Defiance) through my eyes to outside my train window.  

Eastern European forests offered a safe haven for Jews, Russians, Gypsies, political dissidents and others both fleeing and fighting the Nazi’s.  These forest bound partisan resistance fighters conducted guerilla warfare, sabotage, and, military intelligence.    Imagining the forest as homey and hospitable in the middle of winter is a stretch, yet forests concealed family camps living in dugouts complete with craftsmen and schools.

Belorussia, location of Bielski camp. While most partisans were in Eastern European, others were in France and Belgium

The most famous,  the Bielski brothers camp in Belorussia numbered about 1,200 in 1944 and is the basis for the movie Defiance.

From the movie Defiance: Bielski brothers fleeing into the woods after their parents were killed

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Defiance_(2008_film)

Of course it’s more complicated.  Jews sometimes joined larger (more powerful?) Russian partisan groups who were often anti-Semitic.

Russians air-dropped supplies to sympathetic partisans at the end of WWII.  Russian partisans turned  Anti-Soviet and resisted Soviet control from 1944 – 1953.

Faye Schulman, photographer and partisan chronicled her life in the woods in ‘Pictures of Resistance’.  The link: http://www.jweekly.com/article/full/37486/rare-photos-show-hidden-life-of-partisans-who-fought-nazis/

Theo, my Berlin Free Walking Tour guide (http://www.brewersberlintours.com) explained

German organization includes  numbering their trees:  4,100.   We count what’s important.  Money and barrels of oil are counted like partisans must have counted food.

In 2012, danger lurks outside ALL windows.

Birch forest view outside my train window

 Carbon dioxide levels have declared war with our climate – and therefore us. (Or is it the other way around?)  It’s a matter of time before we must all seek oxygen rich hiding places.  A matter of time before we all become partisans.  As modern-day partisans, it behooves us to know  the number of trees on the planet, and how many we need to be safe.

29.6%  of Earth is tree covered.  Once, it was almost 100%.  Between 1990 – 2000, 2% of trees were lost. http://www.ecology.com/2011/09/14/earth-glance/

Mr. Smarty Pants:  96 trees/person to offset our carbon balance http://www.wildflower.org/expert/show.php?id=1634

Each acre of forest provides enough oxygen for 18 people.  As you can imagine, it’s difficult to count the number of trees or even acres of tress on the planet. 

But I’m sure you  also know people far outnumber trees on the planet.  We  can still breathe a sigh of relief, confident we will be suitably oxygenated. But can we hide from the facts?

Environmentalists may seem to be crying ‘wolf’ about global warming.  But most European Jews didn’t believe the  warnings about the Nazi’s either. 

How much longer will forests provide safety?  A haven to hide?  Without  trees, where will our species go for safety?

Resources.  Wars and genocides begin over a scarcity of resources.  (Blood) diamonds, oil, and land have been washed with green(backs) and red. 

2% of forests have been lost in the last 10 years and will never be recovered. What if these trees were your source for oxygen? Would you allow these trees to be clearcut? Burned down for burgers (grazing)?

Wants feed needs feed power and lead to starvation.  Trees are harvested, burned to make way for more lucrative ventures like grazing land.  Land that will lead to starvation.  Of oxygen.  Because what resources REALLY are needed for life?  Water.  Oxygen. 

Without trees where will we hide?  Where will we go to be safe?

Is the human race out to destroy itself?                                                          (BBC quote from Auschwitz  2009)story.   

Organizations providing safety through tree planting:

http://www.arborday.org

http://www.jnf.org/trees

http://www.plant-trees.org

http://wwwspiritoftree.org/trees/trees.html

 

 

                                                          

Shoes: One giant step for empathy?

Shoes!  When did shoes become the go-to destination for journeys to nirvana?  When did well-appointed heels turn cads into princes and transform us plain girls to ‘sex-y in the city’?   Or has footwear always been as important to fashion as the saying: ‘Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes’  has been to identity and peace?

Does our penchant for buying shoes, amassing Imelda Marcos or Carrie Bradshaw sized collections speak to our need to understand others?   Do new shoes provide  the potential and ability to walk that mile to understanding?

My footwear reflects my soul and mirrors my identity.  My journeys are on

Shoes fit for very long journeys

foot and I’ve learned the hard way that Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahnik’s derail my  joy into train wrecks.

Footwear can define identity, and, is just as complicated.   I recently told a dear friend, ‘we may wear the same size, but we like and wear very different shoes – literally and figuratively’.

It can be hard to understand someone you love.  Someone  whose footwear appears interchangeable with your own.  Different styles, different

One pre-Xmas night, a group of young men were camped in front of a shoe store on 34th Street in Manhattan. They were spending the night to be first in line to buy the ‘newest’ sneakers. What kind? What did they look like? No-one knew – just that they wanted them.

toes add difficulty relating to the owner of the heart-pumping-blood to those other  toes. As a species focusing on souls, rather than soles, and the miles journeyed, can surely help promote listening, peace and, understanding identity.

Swapping metaphoric  ‘shoes’:  Would any genocide occur if perpetrators imagined themselves, or their mothers, or wives, or children as victims?  Would they say ‘NO’ to crimes of hate?

Empathy, the ability to put yourself into someone else’s shoes, to listen for  identity without bias or judgement.   This must be a key to peace as I wrote about in my recent post ‘Peace Requires Listening’.

Daniel Lubetzky,CEO of Kind Bars and PeaceWorks remarked (one of) the key to Palestinian-Israeli peace is for Israeli’s to listen to Palestinian needs.  I think a shoe swap and long survival hike might help.

I’ve often found empathy, along with blisters, after finding myself on a path with someone I’ve judged (health).  ‘Blisters’ force me to slow down, open my eyes, acknowledge the pain.

It’s painful to listen if we are not sure of our identity, or we are not on firm footing ourselves. In Vilna, Lithuania (‘Dinner in Vilna’), Lilly said she was unhappy before she focused her identity and connected with Judaism.  Some say shoe shopping, especially during a sale, is a religious experience. There are other ways to worship.

Empathy.  Walking that metaphoric mile.  Several years ago, I discovered

Imagine these pills shaped like SHOES: Empathy pills!

the cure.  A pill.    A shoe-shaped empathy pill.   Mid-judgement, mid-hate action, a quick pill pop would change everything with, ‘Here, walk a mile in my shoes.  Have an empathy pill.’

As soon as a pharmaceutical company gets back to me, I’ll take your orders.

In the meantime, how has a pair of shoes helped you understand others, or, shaped or defined your identity?

What leg of your journey has developed your empathy?

Please, share your thoughts and also let me know how you came to read this post!

A (Promised) Krakow Story and PICTURES!

A young man in a yarmulke swept through my field of vision and competed with Anna G.’s story for my attention.  Don’t get me wrong, she was charming, passionate and brilliantly informative.  But a yarmulke?  Outside of a synagogue?  Here in Krakow?  And although we were in the Jewish Cultural Center (JCC built by Prince Charles, mentioned in ‘Krakow’s past blends into the present’ with the promise to write about Stawek), I couldn’t help but be intrigued by this proclamation of Jewishness.    Anna seemed amused by my interest letting me know that about 15 men and one teen wear yarmulkes without anti-Semitism or curiosity.  Nevertheless, I wanted to hear about this young man’s journey and how he came to be hanging out in the JCC on this Thursday afternoon.

Stawek P. gave a friendly but hesitant smile,  letting me know his English

Stawek P

wasn’t very good. Sitting in a large meeting room decorated with a local artist’s paintings  to the right of the reception area wasn’t very private or cozy.  But as he settled into his story words flowed and we spoke for the next 90 minutes.

(Stawek corrected some of the facts in this post for me.  He reported that there was a big chanukja on Szeroka Street and the JCC.  Yes, the spelling for chanukja is correct, though I have misspelled his name – the second letter is closer to an ‘l’, though a letter that we do not have in the English alphabet!  If you ever wondered why my spelling seemed ‘off’, it is because I often used spellings of my ‘host’ country.)

Stawek was born in Plesse (Pszczyna), a town with a large Jewish population before the war, reduced to 200 after, and now numbering 15 – his family.  Following this family’s religious affiliation through the last few generations  is a unique yet familiar story: Hasidic grandparents; secular, not Jewish parents, and now Stawek, a 20 year old Jewish studies student who wears a yarmulke.  Proudly he shared he is 100% Jewish and 100% Polish.   Poland was the land of the Jews, the capital of Jewish culture and the history of both people is tightly interconnected.

Going to synagogue wasn’t important growing up.  Yet all his classmates went to church – not him.  He didn’t celebrate the same holidays.  When his teacher asked about Christmas he had a tree and presents but no tradition.  (Something we can all think about this time of year!) When asked, Stawek is happy to be Jewish, a response I’ve heard elsewhere.  There are 100 (or 200, depending on definition) Jews in Krakow, and he questions whether there will be Jews here in a generation.  A response to ponder considering four congregations reach out to meet the needs of this small community.

Stawek ‘became’ Jewish since moving to Krakow for school although he grew up hearing his grandparents speak Yiddish, which he believes to be a dying language.   It was Malgosia ( Perla), his paternal grandmother with whom he was close who told him about Jewish traditions.  Malgosia died in 2003 and her miraculous story of survival is melded into his own.

Stawek’s great-grandfather Josef Anszel Lednicer in 1930’s , moved with his future wife from Krakow to (Pszcznya) Pless for economic reasons (NOT because he ‘saw’ danger as I previously wrote).     In 1941 Malgosia was born while the family was in hiding.  During the war, Polish friends of his great-grandparents gave them shelter in their house from 1940 to July 1941 .  Shortly after, a Polish neighbor ‘outed’ Malgosia’s parents as Jews.  In July 1941, the family separated as Malgosia’s parents went to the Sosnowiec Ghetto while she stayed with the host family.  Two older children (Nesia and Alter) were placed with other families.

From the Sosnowiec Ghetto, Malgosia’s parents were sent to Auschwitz.  Her Mother was sent to Ravensbrick,  the Father to Bergen-Belson, where he survived the death march.  Both were liberted by American troops.   Both decided to return to Plesse at the same time where they were reunited – meeting randomly in the street!   Collecting their three children from their ‘adopting’ families, Malgosia’s – and Stawek’s –  family was the only full Jewish family in Plesse to survive the war.

A miracle.  Another miraculous story of  body and faith survival.    These are the types of stories I could hear every day and which I was ‘gifted’ many times on my journey.  These survival stories shared by children and grandchildren in synagogues felt even more miraculous.   Like everything, survival is complicated, and in retrospect I wonder how the storyteller is effected and guided by their family’s miracle?   As hidden and ‘forgotten’ Jews follow their hearts and curiosity into a synagogue or JCC, how do these personal and collective stories shape this next generations personal and religious identity?   I don’t have the answer to these questions – yet.  All I know is that stories continue to be told and shared,  a sign of hope and wonder.  And wonder raises questions that beg to be answered.

Some pictures:

This Krakow courtyard is likely to be one of the most memorable images from Holocaust movie history. This courtyard is from the opening scene of 'Schindler's List' and perhaps the reason we know of Krakow.

Marker found on the Schindler Factory which is now a museum about the occupation and worth a trip to Krakow to see

Yes, Krakow has a fairy tale castle and this is the sight that greeted me as I entered the old city on the way to the hostel

Blug, Wadia, and Michael, three amazing students from the Netherlands staying at my hostel. These young guys were full of personality and insight and were great fun to chat with

These chairs are the memorial to the Krakow Ghetto found on the outskirt of Kazimeriz the Jewish Quarter. The chairs represent the furniture the Jews brought that didn't fit into their small apartments as they were ordered into the ghetto. The chairs seem scattered throughout the square and face in different directions pointing towards possible destinations including Auschwitz and Palestine.

Krakow's ghetto wall was shaped like a tombstone (notice the curved top). The man who built the wall knew the fate that was in store for the ghetto residents

The Remah Synagogue is the oldest active (Orthodox) synagogue in Krakow from the 1500's. Orthodox Yeshivah boys come to pray here and at the Rabbi Yom Tov's grave.

The renowned Rabbi Yom Tov's Tombstone in the Remuh Cemetery. Notice the small scrolls on the stone - it's said if you write a wish and place it here it will be 'express-ed' to G-d since this Rabbi was so holy. His tomb is next to Yossele the Miser, the richest man in Krakow who was known to be miserly until his death when all the poor who had received anonymous allowances no longer did. In fact it was Yossele who had annonymously cared for them. And yes, I wrote a wish!

A view of the barracks inside the camp

Suitcases from Auschwitz. I didn't really want to take any pictures at the camp. Some pictures/images are famous: hair, piles of shoes, but it was these suitcases that hit me as reminders of the hope and optimism packed as Jews and others arrived.

These tracks show where the trains stopped in the camp as prisoners were unloaded and separated into groups - to work or to the chambers

The place for trendy nightlife is the former Jewish Quarter: Kazimeriz (Like New York City's former Jewish area, the Lower East Side, and Budapest's former Jewish QuarterThis main square was filled with restaurants, pretzel vendors, and as many locals as tourists

Krakow was untouched during the war. This traditional synagogue is one of seven in the city

I liked the message: all diferent all equal

Sign for July festival that brings thousands (of NY and Israeli Jews) to listen to music