June 29, 2012 Warsaw,
Poland
Stadtner Shabbat Dinner
Simply put, the Stadtner family hosts the best erev Shabbat
dinner we have experienced. Each Friday
night, they open their home to the community, offer commentary on the Parshah,
chant the blessings, and enjoy Debbie’s fabulous chicken (and a little salad
from Larry). We enjoy it so much we
basically got ourselves a standing invitation..and with this post…are
essentially inviting any of you who get a chance to be in Marin County on a
Friday night to experience this ritual which we know our daughters will
remember as an integral part of their growing up, and of their Jewish
lives. Thank you, Debbie and Larry!
With that preface, we experienced the first Shabbat dinner
that can even flirt with the Stadtners last night in Warsaw. More to come..
On a very personal note, (and especially for readers who
have already asked for some Yiddish translations, and Jewish cultural
references (this is for you, Flora J),
making a trip to Poland brings up lots of emotions for Jewish travelers. Poland was the center of world Jewish life
for about 500 years. Then, in World War
II, 90% of Polish Jewry was killed in the Holocaust. We are traveling to Poland under the guidance
of the Taube Center for the Renewal of Jewish Life in Poland, dedicated to
helping those remaining Jews rediscover their Jewish ancestry (of the
incredibly small number of Jews remaining after the Nazi and the Soviet
periods, even fewer now have any knowledge that their grandparents were
Jews).
For us, this trip is about the intersection…even the
crashing together…of those three parts of Polish Jewish life as much as it is a
journey of family genealogy and Shayna’s bat mitzvah.
That said, as a modern Jewish historian, I know and teach what
happened here.
That that said, there is also humanity; the idea that
the history of Jews in Poland reaches new and different levels when you get to
be here; on the same piece of real estate where all that happened, and is
happening. And I know myself well enough
to know that sometimes the professor recedes and, as Rabbi Lezak would ask me,
“how’s your soul?”
In that spirit, here’s my own diary of the first day in
Poland. Marci and, I hope, the girls,
will add their own perspectives.
About 10 minutes from landing in Warsaw, I looked out at the
green farmland of Poland and thought, “So this is fucking Poland.” How’s that for an emotional burst! It was all Holocaust to me. I’m looking for railroad lines; looking for
people farming their land and wondering about their ancestors who farmed that
land three generations ago. It was WWII
in my mind. I know. I know. I know all the post-war developments,
all the years that have passed, but this is my first moment actually staring at
the land where the genocide was attempted and that was real for me.
Jakub, who will be our guide, translator, and driver for
Poland, Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania met us at the airport and drove us to
our hotel. It warmed my heart (and my
soul) when he asked, within minutes, about our Hebrew. With his time studying at Tel Aviv
University and my year there a generation ago, we conversed…and resorted to
Hebrew when either had a challenge in translating Polish to English. The layers and flavors of Polish Jewish life
were beginning to build.
He showed us a giant skyscraper designed by Leibeskind, who
created the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco (that’s for you
David). Then, he pointed out one of the
few remnants of the wall of the Warsaw ghetto.
Then he showed us massive construction for a new subway line all in the
midst of the Euro Cup Football/Soccer match that played its last game in Warsaw
the previous night. (Italy stunned Germany, 2-1 to reach Sunday’s final in Kiev
against Spain). That was a pretty good
overview of past, present, and future for a Jewish tourist entering Warsaw…
Helise, who has created all the magic to make this journey
possible, came to the hotel to welcome us.
Not only did we get a bag full of maps, books (including a brand new
Jewish walking guide to Warsaw and Krakow), but she included a challah for
Shabbat. The experience is getting
fuller and richer by the hour.
Warsaw’s main synagogue is a short walk from the hotel so we
changed and headed over for Friday night services. It’s an Orthodox shul so Marci and the girls
headed upstairs to the balcony while I joined about 15-20 men in the main
sanctuary. A few chabadniks, two or
three haredi (ultra-orthodox), some (very secular looking) Israelis (at least I
wore long pants), tourists, and just a few Polish Jews.. The Chief Rabbi of Poland, Michael Schudrich,
an American-born rabbi (with a wicked good sense of humor) who has devoted his
rabbinate to Polish Jewish life, led the service.
Orthodox davening (praying) is not my style. I’d prefer to sit with my family and I get a
whole lot more meaning from how I was raised to pray at summer camp. That said, I have huge respect for the work
of Rabbi Schudrich, for the very idea of a grand synagogue in Warsaw in the 21st
century, and, most of all, for having Shayna and Rebecca experience that
service as part of their Jewish upbringings.
As Marci and I reminded the girls
walking back, “you just experienced erev Shabbat in Warsaw.” In the grand arc of Jewish history, that’s
one for memories book.
Rabbi Schudrich invited us to stay for dinner following
services. There, at a long table that
reminded me of the Stadtner table (looks like the seder table but it happens
every week!), we took our seats and began praying and singing and then washing
and eating, course after course. As it
turned out, the four of us were seated across from the Rabbi so we were able to
spend the evening learning from him, asking every question we could imagine,
and getting a better sense of what it is to tend to the needs of Polish Jewry
today. The fact that the rabbi is
American-born helped us in both language and culture as his words and
experiences helped bring us more and more into an understanding of Polish
Jewish life.
He reached out to Shayna and honored her for her upcoming
bat mitzvah. They made vegetarian food
happen for her…and when she wanted more rice, the Polish woman serving the food
smiled at her, RAN to the kitchen, and came back with both rice and an
affirmation (in Polish) that she would also be another of Shayna’s
grandmothers.
Between the rabbi’s teaching, and the singing, and the
praying, and the eating, it was after 11 pm before we were done. We took the walk back to the Hotel full of
Shabbat spirit (and in a whole lot different place than just a few hours
earlier on the plane).
Old Town, Warsaw
Another hot and humid day...
The border of the Warsaw Ghetto
A wedding
The Leibeskind skyscraper
A really nice hotel!
I had a very similar experience in Munich. Same 10-15 old men, hasids in the main shul. A guy came in and just started leading Kabalat Shabbat. After services I introduced myself and (with little or no German) I tried Hebrew. His response "you're not from around here are you? (with a thick Brooklyn accent!) About 10 of us followed the Rabbi to his apartment, up 5 floors in the dark to a beautiful home with about 20 extra chairs set up around the table (so I suppose they just sort of expected theere would be guests). Many courses, great smells, great hospitality. (Something I think we sometimes forget about here in the US).
ReplyDeleteTruly enjoying the blog Mosh. Have fun!
Thanks! Great day today....will take some time to get up to the blog. Moshe
ReplyDelete