Planes, Trains, and Wagons East

Before leaving Korea I got in touch with a friend of a friend who lives in Krakow. He met me at the train station and my five amazing days in Poland were off to a great start. We went for a get-to-know-you beer in one of the cities many, many bars, before going to the most incredible restaurant ever. It was a higher end "milk bar" or Polish style cafeteria. I asked my host to order for me and it was one of the best meals of my life. Polish white borscht with mashed potatoes and sausage (my new favorite dish) and beef goulash over fried mashed potatoes. Needless to say I went back there several times.


The next day was a little rainy, but I went out and explored the old town and Wawel Castle (remember that name). Did the usual cafe hopping and I walked around the park surrounding the city which replaced the city walls when they were torn down. The old city is pretty small, relative to what I've seen since, but it has the largest town square in Europe. And its beautiful.


On Saturday I went to services again. This one was in a tiny synagogue in Kazimirez, the Jewish Quarter, which, outside of the synagogues is completely and ridiculously touristy. Not that it gets a whole lot of visitors, but the restaurants and shops are all jewish-themed which is silly because only about 100 Jews still live in Krakow. I headed back to the old town after the service and met Chris from Iowa in a cafe. He had lived in Krakow for 3 years and we spent the rest of the day walking around the city, into churches and one of the oldest universities in Europe. Then, at night, we stumbled upon a concert in the center square. It was in preparation for the President's funeral the next day.


For those of you who don't know, the President of Poland, Lech Kaczynski, along with 90 others including almost every high ranking member of the armed forces and the chairman of the national bank, died in a plane crash over Russia in the 2nd week of April. Krakow, being the old capital, was where the funeral was to be held. This was a very controversial decision because of where the government decided to bury the president. Wawel Castle (remember?) is where the royal family plus many of Poland's great historical figures are interred. Lech Kaczynski would be the first president to be buried there, and many felt he was undeserving. There were protests, mild ones as its not easy to protest in the wake of someone's death (yeah, I'm awesome). But the town was a-buzz with discussion. It was definitely an exciting time to be in Krakow. Anyway, I had to go to the funeral. I camped out in a good spot at about 10am - I didn't really have anything else to do cause everything was closed - and waited until 5pm when the procession came by, from the town square up to Wawel castle. A smaller crowd than expected showed up, just like in Warsaw, but I couldn't tell from where I was sitting. It was quiet, somber, and full of tourists like me hoping to catch a glimpse of a moment rarely seen in any country.


There, sitting in my spot, oddly enough, I met a nice Polish girl named Anya. (By the way, I just love having to start every conversation with "Do you speak English." Ugh, I feel so stupid doing that.) Now,  I don't normally pick up women at funerals, but we talked for a while, about the Prez and other things, and went out for drinks after the ceremony, when they started serving alcohol again - no partying on funeral day.

The next day Auschwitz happened. Read about it. Then, in an Auschwitz haze, I spent the rest of the day with Anya and her roommates, Marta (Marrrrrrrta, for all those Arrested Development people out there) and Litka. The river is beautiful at night.

My last day in Poland was pretty lazy, recovering from a few nights of very little sleep. I did check out the big synagogue in the Jewish quarter and I had a lovely dinner, again at the Milk Bar with my Krakovian friend of a friend, Karol, again having the white borscht and beef goulash. Just incredible. Then I boarded the overnight train for Vienna.

Summary time. Yeah, Krakow was amazing. Easily my favorite place out of everywhere I've visited, before or since. The people were wonderful, the town was beautiful and small, plenty of awesome and interesting bars and cafes (at least 400 in the old town, literally, and most of the bars were underground in these like four hundred year old buildings which was completely and ridiculously cool), I got to see an incredible cultural/political event, and experience awesome history. Oh yeah, and the girl was a huge bonus. Not really much more I could ask for. Krakow: I want to live to there.

Next week on Planes Trains and Wagons East: Vienna and the Hapsburgs - If you build it (bigger) they will come.

And we're back...

I arrived in Lviv at 5:30am after eight hours on the train sitting across from a gorgeous Ukranian woman. She spoke great English and gave me tea and beer. Definitely the most pleasant train ride I've had. After checking into my hostel I decided to head to the town square and watch the town wake up.


Four hours later I realized that this town was on a different schedule than I'm used to. Around 9am People began trickling out of their apartments, opening up their shops and cafes, and piling into the trams (I love trams) to get to work. During those four hours I walked over to a beautiful cemetery I had read about. It was closed, not surprisingly, but I went in anyway cause I'm a tourist and I don't know any better (I did, but I can act clueless). The oldest grave I saw was frm 1779.


After the graveyard I went searching for the local synagogue, as has become customary in every city I visit. The one here was in horrible shape, and a nice old lady I met explained to me that the roof had been torn off a couple of years ago by a strong wind and only recently had they raised enough money to fix it, so the inside was in bad shape. Not to mention it was used as a stable for horses during the war.


Next up was a hike to High Castle, where there is no castle, but a spectacular view over the city. It's a much bigger city than it seems, especially if you keep to the old city.


Later I met a couple of guys, Frederick from France and Robin from Austria, in my hostel who were going out to a bar and I decied to join them. It was a really cool, kitschy old bar where the bouncer says something like "Glory to Ukraine" and you have to respond "Geroyim Slava" or, "Glory to the people." Inside was a lively group of locals, and later, some lively music to which everyone sang along. We met a couple Ukranian girls there. I made it back to the hostel around 4am.


Needless to say, the next day I was pretty exhausted. Good thing I had a cafe day planned. I hopped around from one cafe to another, each having its own theme and unique atmosphere, along with (what I've learned since moving West) cheap coffee. Halfway through the day I met up with Frederick who joined my cafe hopping. We ate dinner at this awesome Ukranian cafeteria. I left for Krakow the next morning at 7:30.


And that was my Lviv experience. For a big city it has a surprisingly small, laid back feel, which was just what I needed after all those trains and all those huge cities. The coffee was good, the beer and vodka were cheap, and the people were lovely. I'm very glad I got a chance to see Ukraine's second city. It is definitely a special place.

Next week on Planes, Trains, and Wagons East: Krakow - All it's cracked up to be?

I don't really know if I'm ready to write about this. Maybe because I haven't had enough time to reflect, maybe because I'm having so much fun traveling that the somber feeling doesn't last. Maybe because it will never be written about the way it should be. But I will try.

Preface: Disturbing stuff to follow. The first word of the first paragraph will give you a little indication.

2nd Preface: I did this yesterday, and I had to write about it now while it's fresh in my mind. I will resume proper chronology at the next post.

Auschwitz. I used to think the name was enough. Enough to visualize, to think about, even to understand the tragic extent of the Holocast. Enough to cloud eyes with mourning, conversations with sadness, and days with loss. I was wrong. At least my image was, my thoughts were. I realized that as soon as I arrived.

First of all, tourists suck. That place should be open to one person or one family at a time, free to walk in silence. Instead, most people go in huge groups on guided tours. Needless. Talking has no effect there. Neither do facts. We all know the facts, most of them anyway. The staggering numbers, the names, the dates. But we don't hear them or feel how close they are to us, how real they are. The only sound in that place should be the rocks grinding under your feet. The only movement, you and your thoughts. Sometimes, though, from across the camp, the lines of tour groups marching in step across the grounds show you what it may have been like when prisoners were there... with brightly colored clothing, sunglasses, and digital cameras.

The camp is now a museum. Officially the "Auschwitz-Birkenau Museum." Many of the former barracks have been turned into exhibition halls. A few show the Holocaust experience from the perspective of different countries, while others show prison life and "evidence of crimes." The evidence are huge piles of everyday items. Eye glasses, dishes, combs, suitcases, shoes (adult and child), and perhaps most disturbing, equipment of the disabled. Just in piles.

Auschwitz itself is quite small. It would take maybe 20 minutes to walk around the whole camp if there was nothing to see. I decided to make two rounds: one without and one with a camera. The infamous gateway with the words "Arbeit Macht Frei" (work makes you free) came at me so fast I didn't think it was real. It doesn't look real in color, against green grass and a blue sky. I walked around slowly, guideless, aimless, trying to listen. After viewing the piles of evidence, I sat down in a grassy yard between the barracks and ate a simple lunch of bread, cream cheese, and jelly. Imagine. This was not a place for a Jewish man. This was not a place to sit or eat or relax. But here I was. A testament to my people, my culture, and our courage. Sometimes life is a struggle between good and evil, right and wrong. Rarely is it so clear who is who and what is what. But we are good. We are right. And we won. I am proof.

But we also lost. It was at that moment that I became terrified. This camp was built for me. This was a place for a Jewish man, for all Jewish men. I was to die. Eventhough I was not alive, I was a gleam in the eye of the Furher. He knew I was coming and he couldn't let that happen. Millions died to ensure I would not live. The weight of so many people is on the shoulders of every Jewish person now living. It is not a burden or a responsibility, but a reminder. A reminder that this can happen. That there is evil in the world, and that you can always be a target. All you can do is try to be at peace at that moment. I savored every bite of my sandwich.

On that day I did one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. Like so many Jews before me, I walked into a gas chamber. I knew I was going to come out, but that did not make it any easier. As I got closer, every step screamed "I can't do this, I can't do this. I have to do this." I was alone, but I was in line. Marching with my people. I walked through the door that so many people would never see opened again. Inside were the furnaces, and the pipes, and the chimney. Silence. I couldn't move. There were too many of us. The door was open and I found myself outside again.

Auschwitz. No longer an image.

If Auschwitz was disturbing, Birkenau was terrifying. Much, much bigger than Auschwitz, Birkenau was where the crematorium and most of the gas chambers were. Where people came to die. Most of the buildings were in ruins. There is one train track to the camp, and it goes through the main gate. At the other end of the camp, it stops. Trains came here for one purpose. They came full of people and left, empty, on the same tracks. The "selection platform," where the people were unloaded, is gigantic. 70% went to the gas chambers upon arrival. I walked its length twice, again, just listening.

I don't really know if I was ready to write about this. I don't have much to say really. No lessons or pleas or statements, hopes or illusions about war and peace, or ideological definitions hardened by reality.What I know is this: I left Auschwitz more unsure about life than I've ever been. About fear, religion, purpose, truth, everything. I also left Auschwitz more sure about my life than I've ever been. I know I'm living how I'm supposed to, I know I'm doing what I'm supposed to, and I know wherever I go from here, I will enjoy it.

I also know that you (yes, you) have to go to Auschwitz.

Post-face: No other pictures on this post because, again, not easy stuff to look at. Proceed to the photo album if you wish.