Reflections after the Torah's Return

Temple Beth Or travelers & Hermanuv-Mestec townspeople
after 1st Torah Service in 68 years (April 3, 2008)


Stacy Grove, April 18, 2008
For those who could not be present last Friday night at the Shabbat service as Reb Raachel walked the Hernanuv Mestec Torah to the Bimah where Rabbi Lucy read from it the week's parashat, it was a unique opportunity to acknowledge the ongoing journey of this scroll and our link to it. Those who could be present were invited to follow Reb Raachel to the Bimah and stand there, as we had done 2 weeks earlier just before embarking on this very special journey together. That evening we were a group of travelers -- some who knew one another and others who did not -- getting ready to visit Eastern Europe and touch aspects of history and heritage in ways that we could not imagine. We stood on the Bimah last Friday evening as a 'family' bound together by the sharing of delicious meals, excellent opera, ballet, and symphony, along with some intense, overwhelming experiences of joy, sorrow, anger, gratitude, laughter, silence, song and worship as we visited some beautiful and some horrific sites that speak of human creativity at its best and human evil at its worst.

Only 8 days earlier we stood with the same Torah in Hermanuv Mestec, a land foreign to us and 'home' to that scroll. It seemed as though the walls of the synagogue could feel the Torah scroll being placed back into its beautifully decorated ark, the heart space of its being. All who were present sensed something very sacred going on in our midst. In its home town we were welcomed by people who eagerly awaited our arrival and the opportunity to share in a profound worship experience. It was a typical Reform Jewish worship service for reading of Torah, because it was a Thursday morning. Yet it was so much more than typical !!

This sanctuary had been void of God’s spoken word and worship for 60+ years. That day it was filled with the warmth of two loving communities: one which had cared enough to preserve a sacred space that for centuries served a faith community which today no longer exists, and another that took on the role of caring for its most important ritual object. We began with flute music and Rabbi Lucy Dinner’s welcoming words honoring this special moment in time when “two communities from across the globe are gathered together to celebrate what they share in common”, the Torah. Then we all stood and raised our voices “to proclaim the best that is in all of humanity.” Just hearing the chant of Mah Tovu –“How beautiful are your tents, how glorious to join together” echoing and reverberating throughout that building was a very moving experience. Each member of our group took part in the service by reading a prayer or reading from the Torah -- community present together and actively engaged.

After completing the Torah portion of the service in the beautifully restored sanctuary, we chanted the Mi Shebeirach, the healing prayer. We lifted up the names of TBO members and other loved ones who we acknowledge are need of healing. How many of us were silently praying for healing of our own wounds, as emotions surfaced that we can’t even name in the moment? Who among us was asking healing for the people who shared homes in these communities with neighbors that were walking alongside them one day and forever gone the next? What other prayers for healing did we lift up that day in silence, only one day after walking in the streets of Terezin? The mixed emotions of joy and sadness spread throughout the room as we listened to the meditation Carol read just prior to Reb Raachel chanting the El Malei Rachamim and all of us reciting the Mourner’s Kaddish.

This day was a celebration of firsts: the first time this century a worship service was being conducted and peace sought for all peoples in this synagogue; the first time women rabbis were present and leading the worship; the first time men and women participated in the worship service from the bimah; the first time women read from Torah within these walls; the first time El Malei Rachamim and Mourner’s Kaddish was recited here in minyan for those from this community and all who have gone before us.

If any of the local people there were Jewish, besides our guide, Eliska, we did not know. We do know there were Christians there to celebrate with us this special honor of the first Jewish service here since 1939! If it weren't for these caring people, this synagogue would not have been restored in the beautiful authentic decorative style of its time... this trip would never have had reason to be.
The Torah has made yet another cycle from its home ark in Hermanuv Mestec, this time back to the ark from which it continues to be honored at Temple Beth Or, where it has become part of this community's ongoing life cycle story. The Torah portion in Leviticus just before we left spoke of theophany, of God's presence appearing to all the people outside the Tent of Meeting after Aaron and Moses came out of the Tent of Meeting. The Torah portions while in Hermanuv Mestec and as the Torah returned to its TBO ark spoke about different types of 'impurities', discharges, leprosy -- the reasons for separation from community, always with instructions for how God provides return to one's community.

These were the bookend Torah readings for this scroll's journey to its original home and back to its adoptive home at TBO. Both of the arks that serve as the resting place for this scroll have similar decorative style --- one of the many little synchronicities that marked this two week journey.

The scroll was with us as we went to some of the places where people endured persecutions in numbers that rocked this world!!! The wounds were so great!! It has been more than 60 years, almost 20 years after the fall of the Berlin wall, and the darkness that has cast its heavy veil over this land shows signs of lifting. It’s as though the shock and numbness that accompanies death has loosened its grip and given way to feeling the emotions that allow us to move ahead in the healing.

This huge wound that has scarred hundreds of miles of land and spans the globe in its emotional rippling is seeking a major healing. A wound as it heals becomes itchy, in need of being scratched. The numbness and denial give way to sensitivities that beg to be felt and spoken; new discoveries are made while cleaning out the attics of family homes…. the truths are told, the diaries are read …and the ripple effect continues to vibrate throughout the world. Some Christian people discover they are Jewish or learn how their family history has been influenced by these ways in which human evil doing tried to destroy God.

There is a huge void in this part of the world that can not be forgotten, and will be remembered throughout history. How are each of us called to remember and how do we choose to respond to the feelings that surface? Our response can make a major impact in the overall healing for our families and our communities. Will we find what we need to smooth our wounds’ fragmented edges? Can we truly let go of those feelings that keep us stuck in the past or can we free ourselves and open our eyes to the God who walks with us amidst our deepest and darkest times?

Stories were shared as we met people from these communities we visited. They were told by Jewish people and by Christian people, shared with one another; and in those stories more light filled the spaces where darkness has been.

As we enter this season of Passover, Pesach, it is the time to remember the liberation of the ancient Israelites from their bondage. I recall Carol and Peter’s cousin, Merika’s, comment about being able to tell Americans because “they walk like they are free”. Have we healed some of our wounds that have been keeping us fragmented and in bondage? Can we now walk with a new sense of freedom, as we recall our own liberation experiences from this journey we shared?

The Tent of Meeting traveled with the people of Israel in their journey through the wilderness, and God’s presence was made known to the people throughout that journey. Blessed be God who traveled with us on our journey, continues to speak to us through the black fire on white fire of the Torah, and invites each of us to become healed and whole -- to become Shalom.
B'Shalom, Stacy

Reflections from Peter Gabor

Eastern Europe feels tired, almost worn out to me, or maybe it reflects a difference in perception from the wide eyed youth I was when Carol and I lived in Europe for 8 years during the 1970's and the cynical old duffer I am now. Who knows? One thing is clear -- and it was something I did not feel in the 1970's, although I knew it intellectually -- the 20th century was a bad one for Europe and especially for Jews. Two world wars, the Holocaust, nearly 50 years of mind numbing Communist tyranny. Bad, very bad!

Of course, in the 70's I was not, so to speak, Jewish. On my 21st birthday Mom and Dad told me they were Holocaust survivors. So we were Jews. I told no one the family secret for 10 years. I told Carol and the kids in the 1980's. I have not lived as a Jew until recently (and then only in a tentative way to the non-Jewish world). All of the above "sets the table" for who I was and what I felt going into the TBO Eastern European trip.

Prague feels like one giant museum. Where are the Jews? I see the old synagogues with tourist of all kinds (including Hasidim) snapping pictures in front of signs that say "no photos". But where are the Jews of everyday life in Prague? Where are the Jews in Terezin? Ghosts... the town is full of ghosts. I am walking down the streets my mother walked in April and May 1945 as an 85 pound guest of the Third Reich. She had already survived years of fear in Hungary hoping the war would end before the Germans killed the Jews. And then there were 6 months of hell in Bergen Belsen, 2 months in Ragun, then Terezin and finally liberation by the Russians.

A few years ago, I asked Mom if she wasn't afraid when the Russians liberated Terezin because their soldiers were known for raping women on their march from the steppes of Russia to Berlin. A huge belly laugh. "I looked like shit. Who would have wanted to rape me."

What started to bring me out of the darkness was the Hidden Synagogue at Terezin, a triumph of Jewish hope over the horror of their experience. They kept its existence hidden from their jailers and killers throughout the war. Raachel always sings El Rachamim beautifully but never more so than at the Hidden Synagogue. I said Kaddish for Mom in that special place. The whole experience was transformative for me. The rest of Terezin could be bulldozed as far as I was concerned. I guess I'm still pretty angry.

The anger goes away the next day in Hermanuv-Mestec. The restored synagogue is a holy place, filled with righteous people of faith -- Christians -- who in a sustained act of humanity waited 2 generations for Communism to fall so that they could restore the synagogue to honor 700 Jews who lived amongst them until World War II, 698 of whom perished in the Shoah. I am a basket case during the service. So much love, so many memories in that place. I feel so close to Carol and to our group with whom I am bonded forever in the divine. The first Jewish service in Hermanuv-Mestec in almost 70 years -- and with their own Torah. Wow!

Then a miracle. Eliska Levinska was our tour guide for the day. On the ride from Prague to Hermanuv-Mestec she told us of spending over 2 years in Terezin, then being sent to Auschwitz in October 1944, where her Dad was killed. After 10 days in Auschwitz, she and her mother were unexpectedly sent all the way across Germany to Bergen Belsen, and then finally liberated back in Terezin in May 1945. My mother had been sent from Bergen Belsen to Terezin in 1945 also, so I asked Eliska if she had gone directly to Terezin, or if she had stopped on the way. She said she had stopped in a place called Ragun for about 2 months, working as forced labor for the Germans. They were in a very weak condition and then were sent on to Terezin in April 1945. When I told her that Mom had the same Bergen Belsen, Ragun, Terezin story, Eliska exclaimed "We were on the same train. It is a miracle!"

When I asked her how she could be sure, she told me she had researched this very carefully after the war. There was only one train that left Bergen Belsen for Ragun and it left on January 27, 1945. It had 200 women on it, mostly Czechs and Hungarians. The women worked in Ragun for about 2 months. Many got typhus, including my mother. Some died, and those who survived were sent in April 1945 to Terezin on one train. The Russians liberated the camp in May.

God has made this possible. Coincidences like this, or the unbelievable circumstances that led our TBO group to Hermanuv-Mestec in the first place, do not just happen. They are made to happen by a power greater than ourselves. I choose to believe it is the hand of God at work here.

On to Hungary, but that is for another blog entry.

A Emotional Journey

(Peter and I with cousin Marika, son David and Mari's friend Feri)


I shared some of this on the last night of our trip, but now I have had a few days to reflect, I realize even more how much this trip has been a life changing event for me. When I first visited Budapest I was still a student. Peter and I were newly married and beginning the exciting adventure of living and studying in the UK. I was rejecting American materialism and thought that I would find a kinder, gentler world in Europe. I had stars in my eyes about communist states and thought that despite the Stalinist atrocities, Marx had basically gotten it right -- "from each according to his ability, to each according to his need". At that time I didn't know that Peter was Jewish, so of course I didn't know that most of the people we met in Budapest were also Jewish -- and they were in no hurry to enlighten me.

What began as a study abroad experience ended up being a stay of 8 years. Our two oldest children were born there, and I really began my adult life there. During those eight years we visited eastern Europe at least every year. I loved to visit. I loved the people. I loved the cheap art books. I loved the gypsy music. I loved the pastries and the food. I loved the long political conversation with young people and artist friends of Peter's cousin Marika's, including a recent graduate who had just taken a job as a communist party "philosopher". Most of these conversations took the form of me telling them that America wasn't the paradise it was cracked up to be, and that really, the quality of their lives was better -- in a society where the inequalities were not so marked. I admit I wasn't too keen on the cramped apartments, shoddy blue jeans, intermittent hot water, and registering with the police every time we visited, but hey -- nothing's perfect!

I remember vividly a conversation with Marika. She told me that she could always identify an American. I thought it was because of the crimpelene leisure suits, but no ... it was because "Americans all walk like they are free". At the time I thought that Mari was referring to the fact that I didn't sit in a ladylike way and sprawled over all the chairs.

When Peter's father died we returned to Northern Minnesota to take over the business. We had two more children, and there was no time for European vacations. In the years that followed I found out that Peter is Jewish, and that his parents were Holocaust survivors. Peter's Mom opened up to me about the family history. I learned about her experience in Bergen Belsen, Ragun and Terezin. I learned about Granny's twin brother, a pharmicist in a country town, who took his own life and those of his wife and two young daughters rather than be taken by the Nazi's. I learned about Peter's father being strung up by his arms with his hands tied behind his back for a whole day because he did not have his hat at morning roll call. I learned of a family friend who had a thriving business making artifical foreskins. I also learned that being Jewish was something that no Hungarian in their right mind would admit to -- even after the war. Asking someone "What religion are you?" is as rude as asking an American "How much money do you make?"

So with Temple Beth Or I went back to Eastern Europe for the first time as a Jew. What an eye opening experience! I feel the way history weighs on the people there and see the wise cracking cynical humor and the guardedness with anyone outside of the closest family circle in a totally new light. I also shared the delight of another of Peter's cousins whose 4 year old son attends the Lauder pre-school -- a Jewish day school founded by the Estee Lauder family. He has been teaching his parents how to say the Sabbath blessings! I realize that I grew up a lot in the past 30 years, and probably have more growing up to do. What an emotional journey!

Istvan, whose 4 year old son is teaching him the Sabbath blessings.

Incomprehensible Incommensurabilities

Memorial for the murdered Jewish people 

After saying Kaddish at edge of the Danube

Sarah Stein
April 6, 2008 in Budapest

Today we went to the banks of the Danube where a memorial was installed in 2005: bronzed shoes of Jews who were taken to the edge of the Danube and shot, their bodies falling into the river. In some cases, 3 were bound togther, the middle person--man, woman, child--shot, pulling the other 2 people into the water to drown together. 15000 Jews of Budapest, their blood flowing into the Danube, their bodies flowing downriver. We said Kaddish for the dead, and then stood there a long time, silent in the face of yet another encounter with unfathomable evil.

And then tonight a couple of us went to the Hungarian national ballet company to see Swan Lake--absolutely sublime. Glorious, elating, exquisite. Some of the best of what humans do for each other.

That's what this trip is like. Incomprehensible incommensurabilities. One of the deepest teachings of mystical Judaism is about Daat--the ability to bear paradox. We have had the darkest and the lightest all in one day, again and again.

Reflections on Hermanuv-Mestec

Stacy Grove
Reflections on Hermauv-Mestec

It was a memorable day for each of us as we celebrated with the Torah scroll in its home synagogue. From the moment we entered the synagogue with about 30 local townspeople patiently waiting for our arrival, there was a special feeling of anticipation. This was the first time since 1939 that a worship service was being held within the walls of this synagogue! This was the first time since 1939 thatTorah would be read here and prayers lifted with praise and thanksgiving!

For the moment let’s just offer some of the historical information received after the service as we enjoyed a delightful lunch at the Ambiente restaurant. Vladislav(Vladia) Donat, Eliska’s husband, served as our translator interpreter for thetownspeople during our worship service at this beautiful synagogue. Vladia was with Eliska at Southeastern Seminary and at Temple Beth Or when our link in this storybegan. Vladia’s father is a Baptist minister in the Czech Republic, which is whyhe enrolled at Southeastern. Both he and Eliska now teach other students biblestudies, including Hebrew , at a community college in a nearby town. Vladia was bombarded with questions and served as translator for some of us eating at histable with two women who are the ’caretakers’ of the synagogue.

The restaurant where we enjoyed a delicious meal of seasoned chicken, potatopancakes, and potato balls, is owned by Ladislav Mares. He was not there or we would have offered our gratitude to him for he was the person who managed the recent restoration efforts of the synagogue. He found just the right contractorsto provide the materials that would reconstruct the inside of this building withthe accurate detail. And what a superb job was done by him and the contractors!

Vladie told a few of us the following story.... This quaint town of 4,500 people has a long history of with its Jewish community,who were living there as early as 1509, engaged in commerce and money-lending. TheJewish community proper dates from 1591. The Jews were confined to a ghetto underthe protectorate of the overlords of the city. This beautiful synogogue was originally built as a small building in Baroque stylein 1760. When the congregation grew to be 450-500 people the town gave space forthe synagogue to enlarge and in 1870 it was rebuilt in Neo-Romanesque style.

In 1939, there was a law introduced that prohibited Jews to worship. There is a record of a rabbi performing a burial service in this community in 1940. During the war the synagogue was used as a medical storage facility. In December 1942,the Jews from this communitz were taken to Terezin. Sitting with us at the table was Vladia’s surrogate parents, a couple from Canadawho happened to be visiting with him and Eliska while we are here. George is a Baptist minister and friend of Vladia’s father. They actually came to Wake ForestSoutheastern Seminary when Vladia and Eliska graduated a few years ago, about the time when their story first began with Reb Raachel.

Also at our table were the two women who are the caretakers of the synagogue and community center, which currently exhibits art. Dana is from a Lutheran church of 25 people. She grew up within the Jewish community because her father bought a house from a Jewish family. Her family lived on one floor while the Jewish familylived on the other floor of the home until they were taken away in 1942. Dana maintained contact with the family’s grandson after the war. He moved back to theCzech Republic from Auschwitz at age 14.

Maria told us she takes turns with Dana, showing the synagogue. She is Catholic,of which there are about 100 in town. Her priest was at the synagogue for ourservice along with a protestant minister. Maria said 1500 people visited the synagogue this past year. When the synagogue was restored in 2001, there was a dedication ceremony with a rabbi from Prague and the other religious people from Hermanuv Mestec. The synagogue is also used for concerts and book readings. This seems to be a common use of religious churches and synagogues in this country. Weare told that Czech Republic is the most agnostic /atheist country of the EasternEuropean countries. Islam is growing within western Europe countries of Belgium, France, and Germany, but not in the Eastern European countries.

After lunch we spent time at the Jewish cemetary in the town. It is one of the oldest cemetaries in this country. We then returned to the synagogue to spend sometime inside the sanctuary and viewing the art exhibit in the community center. The priest who was at the service invited us to visit his church so we stopped there before leaving town.

There are many different lenses through which to view our day in the history of this beautifully restored synagogue, which serves as testimony to the Jewish community that lived in this town. I’m sure you will hear stories as each of us continues to process and share our experiences of that day.

Some thoughts after our visit to Terezin

Hidden synagogue walls at Terezin

Sarah Stein
April 6, 2008

Thoughts on visit to Terezin April 2:

It was so clear as we stood in the Terezin rooms with walls covered by Jewish art that the driving motive of the Nazis was to kill God--because God was infinitely, abundantly, overflowingly present in the photos of the Jewish prisoners and in their efforts to express what they saw and experienced through their remarkable creative outpouring in the face of death. They were enlisted as draftsmen for the Nazi propaganda machine in Terezin. They were given pencils, paints, paper, and they produced—art. Remarkable drawings, watercolors, portraits—scenes of the camps, renderings of dead bodies in rows, but also of the life in the camp before each was assigned to death in Auschwitz. They drew Jewish stars and painstakingly printed out Torah passages on the walls of a small shed and created a hidden synagogue where they continued to worship and pray.

The Jews were rounded up Prague, in other parts of Czechoslovakia and from other neighboring countries. They were told to pack only one suitcase—so what would they bring? What was most precious to them, what was most valuable. Some things would be of personal significance, photos, letters, books, a Bible. But other items would have real material value. So the Nazis created an extraordinarily economical and efficient system: they got the Jews to sort through and bring to them their material wealth—and the Nazis would steal it and then murder them.

We rode in a chartered bus to Terezin, through the countryside from Prague. We got to the garrison town, which the Nazis had emptied of the Czechs who’d been living there. All of the buildings were then filled with Jews, and the Gestapo sent to run the camp. Our tour arrived at the Registration building. We were told to leave our personal belongings on our chartered bus as we toured the memorial. They would be safe, we were told. Just as the Jews had been told in 1942 when they arrived at Terezin—come this way, leave your belongings, they’ll be safe. We were allowed to get back on our bus and go back. They were not.

Part of the unfathomable evil of the Nazis was the elaborate artifices they put in place. The Red Cross visit to inspect the concentration camps in 1944 was announced 6 months in advance. The Nazis created an elaborate display of wellbeing—filmed footage of smiling children, people attending a concert, kids playing in a playground that they entered only the day of the filming and never again. And, the Red Cross walked away satisfied--leaving unspeakable horror to continue.

Yet even so, the life in those Jews reverberates in that town, in those buildings God’s presence was palpable—in the art the Jews created, in the holiness of the hidden synagogue the prisoners created in a basement room, painstakingly writing the Hebrew letters of a verse on the walls, in the terrible pain, suffering, and sorrow of those souls permeating that camp. 155,000 Jews went through Terezin, 35000 of whom died there of typhus, starvation, or torture—and most of the rest of whom were sent on to execution in Auschwitz.

But God was present in each of them and suffered their deaths with them. And lived—lives--through what they created, and in all of us who came back.

Some sights and Scenes from our trip

Hermanuv Mestect service

Budapest Palace

St. Vidus Cathedral

Prague Palace

Not Another INTERESTING Day!

Interesting Entry to Budapest

To understand how INTERESTING our transfer to Budapest has been you will have to refer to our first INTERSTING travel day! New definition for INTERESTING (It’s time to get a real travel agent)

Our day started with a trip to the airport for a “quick” flight from Prague to Budapest. Checking in for our flight we discovered that Rabbi Dinner’s ticket was once again botched. This time she had two reservations. In and of it self that is not so interesting. However, it did not take much time for that not so interesting mistake to become INTERESTING. When our tour guide tried to check in he was told he had missed his flight because he had accidentally been scheduled for a flight earlier in the day. Seemed like an easy fix – since Rabbi Dinner had two tickets, she volunteered to give him one of hers. That was impossible the agent replied because the plane was full. He would have to purchase a new business class ticket.

After an hour of conversations between the local representative of our rapidly reaching the infamous status travel agency Ayelet, the Czech Air rep, the tour guide, and Rabbi Dinner, we learned some interesting airline doublespeak:
1) Rabbi Dinner’s two confirmed tickets were only good for one airline seat
2) Our tour guide could for a revised price receive a new business class ticket
3) Even though there were “no regular seats available” on the plane, the “business class seat” that our tour guide purchased happened to be right in the middle of the “regular class” section of the plane.
We considered ourselves fortunate because this time we didn’t even have to run to make our plane.

After an introduction to Budapest through the view at the City Park of their Statue of Liberty we headed to our hotel. Interestingly, (meaning isn’t this inconvenient) our hotel is located on a street that is under construction. That meant the bus had to park a block and a half away from the hotel. (luckily the hotel sent Strong Bellhop MEN to fetch our luggage). Interestingly, (meaning this is beginning to look more than just inconvenient) as we wove our way down the broken pavement to the hotel we noticed a building being reconstructed with lots of heavy equipment and all its accompanying noise and dust right next door to our hotel.
Interestingly,(meaning inconvenience is looking more and more like travel agent
negligence) the hotel Ayelet selected had no rooms with two beds, though all but four people on the trip paid for rooms with two beds. After having to miss Erev Shabbat services in the famous Dohaney Synagogue, and hours more of phone conversations with Ayelet and its local agents, four guests were transferred to another hotel, a few dark alleys (that we’re hoping won’t become interesting) away from the original hotel.
After an almost tolerable dinner of chicken nuggets and rubber beef, we had a lovely introduction to the Reform Jewish community of Budapest by Gabor, a congregation leader. Saturday morning we will be at the Jewish Community Center for the Reform congregation’s service. Then we have a free afternoon.
Interestingly, (meaning is some Greater Source trying to send us a message) the new hotel, wherein Rabbi Dinner is residing, along with her computer and access to uploading the blog, does not have a compatible internet connection with her computer. And the internet connection is completely down at the hotel where most of our group is staying.

Thank God, despite all of the interesting developments, our group is resilient and even still jovial. God willing (it is beginning to look like it will take Divine Intervention) we will be able to enjoy the rest of Shabbat and our touring in Budapest the next few days.
'
Singing on the bus


Marionettes in Budapest too!



Rabbis with Hermanuv Mestic Ministers

Trip to Hermanuv-Mestec

Stephen Jurovics has said that nothing happens by accident. Three years ago a group of students from Southeastern Baptist Seminary came to visit Temple Beth Or and Reb Raachel showed them our Czech Torah. Then the rabbi said that, unfortunately, the town that the Torah came from had been destroyed, as had been the synagogue. "The Torah came from the town of Hermanuv-Mestec," she said, and immediately, one young woman spoke up: "No. The town survived and the synagogue has been restored. I know because I'm from the town of Hermanuv-Mestec."

So, the odyssey of bringing the Torah back to its home began on that day. Yesterday was that day. Not only was the Torah brought back to the synagogue and placed in its original Ark, but the members of this group held a weekday service. And, it wasn't by accident that on this trip, we had a flautist, Stacy Grove, a chanter, Sarah Stein, 2 Rabbis, Rabbi Lucy Dinner and Reb Raachel Jurovics, and every member of the group who participated.

The guide who brought us to the synagogue was a Holocaust survivor from a nearby town. And one of the participants in the service was our congregant, Hungarian-born Peter Gabor. His mother had been at Terezin. When he talked to our guide, he discovered that she and his mother had been on the last return transport from Belsen-Bergen to Terezin, during the last chaotic days of the war. Both women, because of that route, survived the Shoah. Peter had never met anyone before who had been on that same transport.

The service was attended by the townspeople of Hermanuv-Mestec, and not one was Jewish. But, those townspeople had been the ones who supervised and helped with the restoration of the building. The temple was typical of nineteenth century Reform synagogues, beautifully decorated in the Moorish style. None of us can describe the feelings of this once in a lifetime experience. You will hear more about this day when we return, because we cannot put this into words at this time.

Fun Picture Flash Back to 1st Day

Reb Raachel when she learned, in the limo drive between LGA and JFK that our plane would be leaving for Prague in less than an hour. (One hour earlier than on our itinerary!)

Spectacular Marionette Opera

Written by an anonymous Temple Member

I think most all of us are having a great time -- Prague’s nightlife is just wonderful – so many things to choose from. Looking for something indigenous to Prague, we decided on what was a ‘spectacular Marionette show’ according to our guides and friends back home. So six of us set off for dinner and to see the Marionette Opera, Don Giovani. We were led by our esteemed Rabbi Dinner.

After wandering around charming cobbled streets, that became less and less charming as we traveled a ‘few’ more than necessary, we found a restaurant that was deemed ‘acceptable’ by all six of us – a miracle in itself! And it turned out to be better than acceptable. A few dishes were five-star with two dishes -- a roast chicken liver dish in gravy and a cabbage salad – that by themselves were worth the cost of the TBO trip!

So with our bellies full, once again we set off with our esteemed Rabbi at the helm, all the while assuring us she knew the route to the show and it was ‘just a few blocks.’ We should have questioned her navigational capabilities by this time, but she IS the Rabbi, after all. ‘A few blocks (maybe a few hundred) and roughly 20 minutes later, with ‘a bit’ of help along the way from two policemen, the maitre ‘d of a sidewalk café, and a cab driver, we finally spied overhead a 5’ x 8’ banner with a rather scary looking marionette Don Giovani . And lo and behold just to the left was the – only slightly larger than the banner – entrance to the theatre. Two of our party who already had tickets in hand went ahead to begin the trek up a daunting looking flight of stairs while we got our tickets.

We joined the other two at the top of the stairs only to find we had a little surprise. OOPS! Seems there were TWO marionette theatres, and the two of our group (who shall remain anonymous lest they try to sue for leading them astray) who pre-purchased tickets were tickets for THE OTHER theatre. Exhausted from the trek around the city, those two decided this was the last straw and returned to the hotel – ahhh! they were the smart ones – if only we’d known. After climbing another staircase, this a winding one as long as the first, we reached our. .. er .. rather rock hard bench seats, looked around and noticed we were the only four old enough to buy liquor. Hmmm, interesting we thought. The curtain opened and out popped sor ely-in-need-of-new-paint-and-new-wigs marionettes. We managed to sit for 40 minutes of puppets knocking each other down, performing other acts we chastise five-year-olds for, and finally engage in some quite unsavory x-rated activities with the ladies. I’d like to say we behaved as the model of decorum, but we left the theatre and barely got out the door before we were overcome with laughter. I think the memories of our night will be much sweeter and far more memorable for our laughter than the memory of even a wonderful Don Giovani would have been.

So the moral of this story is always trust your rabbi to take you in the right direction even if it takes a little longer than you expected!

Significant Visit to Terezin

April 2, 2008

Today we went to Terezin. The tour was filled with mixed emotions. Terezin was a town built as an army barracks in the 1800’s. It has fortification all around it as an army base. When the Nazis took over they forced the Czech’s who lived there out and transformed the whole town into a concentration camp. All of the barracks were converted into mass housing for the 135,000 Jews who were sent there between 1939 – 1945. 30,000 died there because of the harsh conditions, most of the others were sent to death camps where they later perished.

Terezin is where the Children’s opera Brundibar was composed and performed over 55 times by children. Most of these children went to their death shortly thereafter. Many artists in Terezin were able to draw pictures of the stark reality of life in the camp and hide them away in the barracks. As recently as the last ten years more sketches have been uncovered. There are two faces to the art. One is the face of a serene village – the Nazis forced the artist to depict Terezin as a a self governed Jewish town with serene and content Jews. The other is the face of their world in its bare reality that these artists risked their lives to draw and then to stash away wherever they could.

The town experienced major flooding a few years ago, and most of the buildings have a fresh bright coat of paint on them now. This in stark contrast to the Terezin where Jews lived in conditions of starvation, no protection from the elements, forced labor and more. Many died from disease from the unsanitary conditions.

After the war many of the Czechs who had been evicted during the war came back to reclaim their homes. One found and preserved a small shed that had been converted into a one room synagogue. The family kept the synagogue secret and intact for decades until 1989 fall of communism, when they turned it over to the Holocaust remembrance organization. The small synagogue had beautifully illuminated walls and ceiling with Hebrew verses from Torah seeking redemption. The flood of a few years ago washed away much of the painting, but we were able to see the remnants. We held a beautiful memorial service there, where Peter Gabor shared the story of his mother who had been sent to Terezin from Bergen-Belzin at the end of the war.

A lot to absorb in one day. The pictures tell their own story.

Magnificent Prague

March 31st & April 1st, 2008

Our entrance into touring has led us into intrigue, charm and appeal.

Our guides Artur and Margetta are terrific and Prague is actually fabulous. The weather has been wonderful. About 62 degrees and sunny.

Yesterday we saw the Castle district of Prague. We walked for five hours, (our guides have us training for a walkathon!) The architecture is magnificent. Every street is filled with incredible statues and ornate sculptures. The Prague Castle, which is now the President’s office is well guarded by towering statues armed with bats and swords. They provided perfect protection for our tour group.

Today we toured the Jewish Quarter. Prague’s Jewish quarter has among the most preserved synagogue district in E. Europe. The Nazis were not able to destroy the synagogues and they are all in good condition. Most Czech’s are not particularly religious, so many of the old synagogues and churches are used as cultural centers for music and the arts. Tonight the old Spanish Synagogue is featuring a Gershwin Review! We saw the synagogue where the Maharal created the Golem and the Jewish cemetary. In the Jewish museum our guide showed us Hannukah Menorahs with two shammas, so that on Shabbat the Shammas can be used for Sabbath candlesticks. The Jewish Quarter is among the top tourist sites in Prague for people from around the world. It was teaming with school children and tour groups from around the world.

Margetta gave us a half a day off from our marathon training this afternoon. Tonight several of us are going to a Czech puppet show play and others to hear chamber music in a converted church.

Funny find of the day: These Confederate soldiers at a tourist kiosk along side Torah yads - It's probably the only tourist kiosk in the world with this particular combination!