Last day in Eastern Europe ~ Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Our trip has focused on the past history of Eastern Europe, and the current ways of remembering and interpreting the past.  It exposed us to the revival of Jewish life, and it helped us engage with both Polish and Lithuanian people. By immersing ourselves within the cultures we enjoyed ourselves and had an eye-opening experience.  This was accomplished throughout the trip, even on the very last day.

Lenin shrunk down to size

Our final day started off with a powerful lesson about the Lithuania's experience under the control of foreigners.  First, under Soviet communist control from 1940-41, followed by German control for the following 3 years, and then once again under communist rule until 1991.  Across from our hostel is a building that housed both the Gestapo and the KGB (Soviet secret police).  After Lithuanian independence, the new government established the building as the national “Museum of Genocide Victims.”  

Once inside we learned about the cultural oppression, arrests, deportations, imprisonment, forced labor, and executions during the Soviet occupation.  Going through the well-documented museum--including the prison and torture cells in the basement--was painful and distressing, and we were all emotionally drained by it.   

The only way Frank Zappa ever
reached Lithuania.

What a relief it was to be outside in the free air of 2014 Vilnius!  We had a much needed, mood lifting visit to the Frank Zappa statue where Dylan Lerner presented on why Zappa was an attractive figure of rebellion for Lithuanian youth during Soviet times.

After the presentation we divided into two groups.  Half the group joined Prof. O’Sullivan for a visit to the Lithuanian Museum of Contemporary Art.  The art displayed was surprisingly similar to American contemporary art with many surreal paintings and strange creations. 

What does it mean?  What does it mean?

One room contained furniture, portraits, and paintings, but everything was duplicated, causing us to question our eyes.  Another room was pitch black, except for the light shining from the vintage film projectors lined up against the wall, creating the unique sound of spinning film canisters.  This kind of contemporary art challenges our views of reality and normalcy.  Having started the day at the former KGB headquarters, we were pleased to see the progress of a generation of liberated people free to paint and create and break from conformity.

The other half of our group accompanied Prof. Myers to meet two special people.  After first enjoying a delicious lunch at a Hari Krishna vegetarian restaurant, we met the people we were looking for at The Green House, the Jewish Holocaust museum of Lithuania.  

getting the "real" experience of hiding in an attic

The first was a feisty and politically radical elderly woman named Rachel.   She sat us down and told us how her father, a judge in Vilnius, placed her and her mother on a train to central USSR on the day before the German invasion.  Although they faced great hardship, the Lithuanian government-in-exile helped them spend the years during the war in safety.  The fact that they were Jewish was not considered a problem - in fact, Rachel's school classes were in Yiddish.  We asked her what she thought of the KGB Museum of Genocide Victims. 

Rachel in the front center, Sebastian in the back left

Before she was able to answer, the second person we had been looking for appeared, a 20-something Austrian named Sebastian volunteering at The Green House.  “Lithuanians suffered genocide,” they both said, “and it occurred when Jewish Lithuanians were murdered by other Lithuanians.”  While they do not deny the horrible 50-year Soviet oppression of Lithuanians, they object to labeling it genocide.  Most important, they protest the lack of acknowledgement by Lithuanians that they played a major role in slaughtering Lithuanian Jews.  Sebastian compared the situation in Lithuania to his native Austria.  He described the effect on him when the Austrian politician Kurt Waldheim's wartime collaboration with the Nazis was revealed.  Rachel challenged us American citizens to be more skeptical of official and media reports about current events, and she urged us to respond to injustice, even if it makes us unpopular. 

The rest of the day was free for shopping, packing, more eating, and fun.  We had our farewell group dinner at a pizza parlor, and the students presented the professors with tokens of appreciation.  Some of us went out with our new Lithuanian college student friends, but it was generally a quiet and relaxing evening.  Our two weeks together were coming to an end.  The tragic events we studied on this trip resonated deeply with everyone.  It was inspiring to see the rebirth of Poland and Lithuania and the continued vitality of the Jews in those lands. 

We feel fortunate that we had such an amazing and dynamic learning experience.  This trip transformed how we look at the past.  It has helped develop our critical thinking skills, and put us on the path toward being global citizens.  

on our journey together

Trakai, Ponary, and our first exposure to Vilnius ~ Sunday, June 22, 2014

Walking toward the island castle in the mist

Our new bus driver arrived promptly, and we loaded our luggage and headed toward Vilnius in the rain.  Leonardas won our hearts by turning on a Russian music video (after 20 minutes we begged him to turn it off), allowing us to eat in the bus, entertaining us with creative driving maneuvers, and talking animatedly in Russian with Prof. O’Sullivan throughout the trip.  He also agreed to let us spend one hour in the Trakai Castle, while he went and fetched us the famous local main-dish pastries, kibinai.

From here you can see them making kibinai

The Trakai Castle was built on an island in the 14^th century by a Lithuanian grand duke.  It had glorious red stone walls, drawbridges over moats, and turrets.  The Soviets restored it as a gift to Lithuania after World War II, and it is a popular tourist destination.  Some rooms had exhibits of Victorian-style china, coins, and purses, while others contained paintings.  We raced through the rooms and squeezed up the narrow flights of stone stairs.   Our visit to Trakai was over far too soon.  We gathered at the bus stop and welcomed Leonardus and his precious booty, kibinai stuffed with lamb, pork, chicken, or cheese.  

Just outside of Vilnius we stopped at Ponary, or Panierai. 

one of the Jewish memorial stones

Making our way through the rain we went into a little museum and were greeted by an old and eloquent guide who pointed to the museum exhibits and told of the horrendous events that occurred here.  Panierai was a village alongside a rail line, and nearby were large pits built by the Soviets for oil storage.  The Germans used the site for mass murdering 100,000 people here and using the pits as mass graves.  Later they tried to hide their crimes by forcing prisoners to cremate the dead.  About 70,000 of the victims were Jews from Vilnius and the surrounding areas, many who had been imprisoned into the Vilna Ghetto.  The rest were soldiers and civilians who were non-Jewish Lithuanians, Poles, Romani, and Russians.  We stopped at the stone memorials and sculptures honoring the victims.  It was melancholy and beautiful, the forest and grass damp from the misty rain.  A moment of grace occurred when a moose appeared on a path between the trees nearby the students.  Noticing us, it disappeared into the woods.

Back on the bus, it was a short, quiet ride to the capital city.  The hostel was not yet ready for us, so we left our luggage and walked into Old Town Vilnius.  The air was cool and clean, and people were playing games in the midst of the street shut off from the traffic.  We could see that we would enjoy our last four days of our trip in this pretty and lively town.

fried onions, sour cream, and butter on top
of potato dough and a bit of stuffing

That night we had a group dinner featuring the national Lithuanian dish, cepelinai.  It’s sort of like a dumpling, but with moist, thick, bland outside, and inside is a mystery meat (or, in the case of the vegetarian version, a mystery cheese).

Perhaps the 2.9 million Lithuanians love it, but let us just say that for most of us, it was the first and last time cepelinai will pass our lips.

An Užupis wall tile commemorating a poet, writer,
 and diplomat from these parts who refused to identify
himself as either a Lithuanian or a Pole

And, to top off the day, we went to yet another cemetery.  It was in the charming section of Vilnius known as Užupis.  Prof. O’Sullivan’s friend Aurimas took us on a tour of this artsy neighborhood which has declared itself a separate, independent republic.  “Everyone has the right to be unique,” “Everyone has the right to be unhappy,” “Everyone has the right to love and take care of the cat,” and “Everyone has the right to celebrate or not celebrate their birthday” are among the 39 articles of their constitution.







Wire, ceramic, tile, and stone sculptures are placed between the trees, on the buildings, and in the square.  We loved their quirky humor.

Aurimas insisted that the pretty, wooded cemetery established in the 19^th century was not a site to miss. It appeared strangely normal, filled with graves of people who mostly lived and died like they were supposed to.

We returned to the hostel.  Some students stayed up to watch the World Cup, others collapsed onto their clean beds.

Good news in Kaunas, Lithuania ~ Saturday, June 21, 2014

Dear Readers: Today’s post will include events that are definitely more upbeat!  No mass graves, no cemeteries, and we will focus on Jews who lived and the non-Jews who saved them! 

Oh, did we mention that our bus driver (who was supposed to be with us until airport drop-off) abandoned us last night?  Perhaps we depressed him with our sad itinerary.  He would have been happy with today’s activities.  But without him, we had to trudge MILES through rainy and cold Kaunas, up steep hills and down uneven cobblestone streets.  (All this is true). 

Kaunas Choraline Synagogue

In the morning, after enjoying presentations from three different students, we walked to the synagogue.  We merely looked at the impressive outside, and Prof. Myers talked about the determination of the Orthodox Jews to preserve their traditions. 

Like true scholars eager for knowledge, we marched through the streets and up a steep city hill, the drivers of the buses and cars amazed at our energy.  At the top was a lovely park-like neighborhood where we eventually found the former Japanese Embassy, currently the Sugihara Museum.  It had also been the home of Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese consul to Lithuania in 1939-41, his children, and his wife, Yukiko, who played an important role in the saga.   

a life-saver

Defying orders from his superiors, he issued about 5,000 (numbers vary) travel visas to Polish Jewish refugees fleeing war-torn Poland.  With these documents, they traveled through the USSR on the Trans-Siberian Railway and reached safety in Asia.  Photos, documents, and maps decorated the rooms of the museum.  We also watched a very inspiring film with testimonies of those saved by Sugihara.   

Kaunas Jewish community members

Prof. Myers had arranged a meeting with members of the Kaunas Jewish community who met us at the museum.   One was a survivor, and despite her persecution at the hands of non-Jews, she is actively involved in interfaith fellowships.






Others were involved in social-welfare tasks of the community or planning programs.  Each spoke to us in a different language, and it’s a good thing Prof. O’Sullivan could translate the German, Lithuanian, and Russian! 

nutritious?  

We ate lunch in Old Town Kaunas.  What are our lunches like?  Typically, everybody scatters in groups of 2 – 4 to the nearest restaurant (no such thing as fast food in Poland or Lithuania), attempting to decipher the menu and not irritate the waitresses too much, and then, when the food finally arrives after agonizing minutes, everybody inhales the meal in the effort to meet back at the promised time.  Invariably, some people are late, and after much sighing and checking of watches, the entire group takes off to conquer the next challenge.

This next activity may sound hellish, but it wasn’t.

Driftwood devil

We went to The Devil’s Museum.   This is a private collection of carvings, sculptures, paintings, pottery, and items that portray the devil from different cultural traditions.  They varied from the comic to the horrific in multiple artistic styles and materials, filling four floors of the building.

Lietuva means Lithuania, and notice the basketball logo.

Gathering together afterwards in the lobby, Rauhman taught us about Lithuanians’ obsession with basketball. 

"The King's Fairy Tale"

Jeremy followed with an exposition on the Lithuanian musician and painter Mikalojus Čiurlionis (choor-lee-o-niss) – and then most of us walked across the street to the Čiurlionis Museum to view the work of the artist himself.    The paintings were exotic, haunting, abstract, and beautiful!

We were not allowed to take photos, but we found this online image of one of the paintings we liked:  

After a day devoid of tragedy, we were exhausted.  We ordered pizza into the hostel for dinner and went to bed early.

Copernicus Museum and Gizycko ~ Wednesday, June 18, 2014

After breakfast we left Folwark Lekuk and drove to Olsztyn.  Our destination was the Copernicus Museum, housed in an old castle with its beautiful red brick baroque architectural construction.  Walking toward the entrance we were greeted by a bronze statue of Copernicus pondering.

Look at that schnoz!

 The statue’s nose is frequently rubbed by visitors on their way into the castle, claiming it brings good luck.

Hanging like a pagan

In the museum’s courtyard we stood before an original statue of a deity from the local religion before the residents converted to Christianity.  It showed us one more layer of history in this land.


We navigated through the group of Polish school children to learn about the life of Copernicus and his contribution to the world.  A man of incredible academic prowess who studied all over Europe, he moved to Olsztyn and worked for the government and Catholic Church.  He solved problems in currency, defense, and property ownership.  He still found time to gaze at the night sky and notice the elliptical orbits of stars and planets.  Primarily using calculus, he constructed the theory that the earth was not the center of our solar system.  He knew his findings would be controversial, so he delayed publication and in fact died before it was finally published as On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres.

Astrolabe with mustache detail

Authentic documents in Copernicus’s handwriting were on display.  Neat rows of careful script, occasionally interspersed with line drawings, were partially translated and explained.  He never married or had children, and one exhibit took pains to explain that his “friendly” relationship with his housekeeper Anna was merely platonic.  Hmm. . . sure. 

The creaky wood spiraling staircase led to a second-floor exhibit of farm tools, furniture, beautiful clothing and colorful textiles from the 19^th century.

"She should get a refund for that painting!"

Muppety Jada Do Hollywood

Another floor displayed a plethora of paintings ranging from religious figures to kings and queens (sometimes the kings and queens were not so easy to tell apart). The top floor of the castle housed a recent exhibition of Polish posters of movie films familiar to us but presented in a very foreign style. 

We ate in the Olsztyn town square and eventually headed to our new lodging in Gizycko.  This town is situated between two lakes, and our hotel was near the waterfront that was cluttered with hundreds of boats of all sizes.  We all got settled in our rooms and then strolled through the quiet town, enjoying a leisurely evening.

Gizycko viewed from the water tower. How beautiful!

  

The Warsaw Uprising and national art ~ Saturday, June 14, 2014

Poland Pride! 

Go, Poland!  On Saturday we learned about Polish history, nationalism, and food.  Here are the years Poland was independent between 1772 and 1918: zero.   Here are the years Poland was independent after that: from 1918 – 1939, then from 1989 to the present. 

Those side-long looks

Poles have erected monuments and museums to display the war heroes and political leaders of the past.  The museums that we visited on Saturday, the Warsaw Uprising Museum and the National Museum, emphasized Polish ethnicity above all, and they neglect to bring attention to the fact that Poland was also home to Lithuanians, Ukrainians, Jews, and Germans.   Poland today is much more homogeneously Polish (94% of the population), and that’s one reason our group attracts so much attention.  And we’re so obviously American: clothes, hair, backpacks, language, and smiles.  Courtney was pestered by a boy who kept running up to her and shouting random phrases he had learned in his English lessons: “Right turn!”  “Open the door!”

The British Liberator 

As you walk into the Warsaw Uprising Museum, the room vibrates with a heartbeat, immediately sucking into the intensity of the events that occurred.  The museum is full of visuals (photos, videos), documents (letters, lists, maps) and items (weapons, uniforms, sewer covers) that tell about the revolt in an exciting manner.  Riveting objects in the museum include the classical BMW motorcycle with a side car.  Each and every person in our group happily sat on it for a photograph (see our Gallery).  In the basement was a sewer pipe you can crawl through to experience how kids and smaller adults stealthily made their way under Warsaw to bring messages and supplies to people on other sides of the city – lucky for us, the pipe was unrealistically clean. A fighter plane was suspended from the ceiling with moving shadows to simulate spinning propellers.

Rauhman, Jonathan, Lovia, and
distracted Dylan drinking a cup of kawa

Want to travel back in time to 1940s Warsaw?  Stop at the elegant café, complete with ornate decorations and photographs of the sophisticated actors who refused to perform for the Germans, and so served as waitresses and waiters.   Actually, some of the displays were truly frightening, showing Hitler’s collective punishment of thousands of Poles.  To top it off, at the end we saw a short film that showed aerial views of the piles of rocks and bombed out buildings that was Warsaw after the Uprising, resembling the unreality of a Hollywood action movie set. 

Hey Courtney! Who was Jan Matejko?

Jeanette makes a figure come to life (notice the hair)!

After the Uprising Museum we took a tram downtown to eat lunch on our own.  The day was on-and-off rainy and windy, and it was too wet for our planned bike ride, so we went to the National Museum.  Courtney presented her research on the painter Jan Matejko.
His most famous painting was gargantuan, spreading from wall to wall and ceiling to floor, showing the victorious Polish battle against German knights.  There were elaborate, detailed statues of Jesus and other New Testament scenes (one had actual hair on the characters!), Catholic saints, and other biblical figures.  Polish national art includes romanticized pink-cheeked peasants and also more realistic portrayals of the rich and poor.

That evening, we had our Polish pub meal.  We had great appetizers!  We played bonding games.  By then everybody was hangry: that means, hungry and angry because it took so long to get the main course.  When playing Telephone, Krystle chose the phrase “when’s the second course?” and the platters of meat finally landed in front of us. 

Filled to the brim, exhausted beyond our imagination, we retreated to the hostel.  Everybody got a second wind and stayed up until all hours!    

Or you'll be sleeping outside with the Poles!