Woke up this morning in Munkacz, Ukraine. My room at the Star Hotel is beautiful. The hotel itself is beautiful and the street it is on is beautiful.
It is now 7:15 am. The plan is to meet in the lobby and then walk to a nearby shul. After davening (reciting prayers) at the shul (Yiddish for synagogue), we will have breakfast at the Jewish Community Center. We will then go on a walking tour before leaving on our tour bus for Mad, Hungary.
I looked out the window in my room and, to my surprise, saw the initial stages of a bright and colorful sunrise. I could tell that it was going to be another great day. And it was. Here is what I did, along with some personal reflections:
As planned, I met Rabbi Tessler in the lobby. I then walked outside to wait for the rest of the men. It is a crisp, clear, and gorgeous fall day. In front of me is a plaza where a large, imposing statue of Lenin once stood. I am also near the ghetto where, seventy years ago, thousands of Jews were rounded up and sent to Auschwitz.
The sun is shining on the large yellow leaves on the many mature trees lining the streets. There are several dogs roaming around – well-behaved ones and very cute – without a leash. Apparently, dogs have free rein on the streets.
The Night Before
When we arrived in Munkacz (also spelled Munkacs and Mukacheve) the night before, I felt that I was on another planet, not just in a former communist (Soviet bloc) country at war with Russia on its western border. Everything was so unfamiliar and different – from the street signs in both Hungarian and Ukrainian to the architecture to the currency. I felt a little uneasy and bewildered. But those feelings were quickly dispelled by our local tour guide, Naomi Tabak, who told me that Munkacz is a very peaceful town where Jews could walk around with a yarmulke and even wear tzitzit without any problem. Naomi was born in Munkacz and has three young boys and one daughter. Later that night, I met her daughter, who was sitting in a very modern baby carriage. The next day I saw one of her sons playing in a schoolyard. These were very cute kids!
The Morning Minyan
After walking several blocks from the hotel to the shul, we joined the minyan already in place and about to begin the morning service. The Shaliach Tzibur (prayer leader) read the entire prayer service out loud and at a very fast pace. We were done in about 30 minutes (nice!). I could not help but think how honored and privileged we were to daven with this fine group in a place with such a rich but tragic history. Although the locals at the shul spoke no or little English, I was able to express my appreciation to them by shaking their hands, and saying Yasher Koach (a form of congratulations) and other kind Hebrew and Yiddish expressions.
Breakfast at the JCC
Next, we ate breakfast at the JCC across from the shul. The president of the Jewish community, Avraham Leibovich, honored us with his presence and, along with what appeared to be local volunteers, personally served all of us (about 20 men and women) coffee, tea, hot eggs, and other breakfast goodies. During the delicious meal, Rabbi Tessler surprised us by reading a letter from Suzette’s father, Mark Lane, who was born on a farm near Munkacz. Mark spent most of his youth (until age 14) living in Munkacz. The reading of the letter made the experience even more surreal because it felt like Mark was actually in the room. In a very loving way, Suzette’s father expressed his gratitude to his daughter for making the trip to Munkacz and attempting to retrace his childhood footsteps.
(As I write this blog, I am thinking that this is a great tour group that has bonded and laughed together on many occasions. Without going into a lot of detail, every aspect of this trip has been meaningful, transformative, and full of learning experiences.)
The Walking Tour
After breakfast, we headed through town to visit a newly rededicated shul. It was still under construction. I heard someone say a billionaire donor is paying for the restoration. The shul’s design was interesting and impressive. Suzette’s dad attended the original shul.
On the way to the shul, Naomi pointed out locations where other shuls and many Jewish homes and businesses once stood. She said the town was known as a “small Yerushalyim.” Naomi stressed that, before the war, 48% of the town was Jewish. There were 18 shuls. It had been an extraordinarily vibrant and robust Jewish community.
We also passed a memorial on Valenberha Street that marked the beginning of the ghetto where Jews had been rounded up before being deported to Auschwitz. A plaque on a wall explains that, beginning on April 4, 1944, this was where thousands of Jews were taken to be murdered. (I think the plaque is a bit more poetic and actually states something like this is where the Jews were taken to join Hashem in eternity.) On the same wall, there was also a plaque honoring Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish diplomat who saved tens of thousands of Jews in Hungary during the Holocaust.
We then head to Uzhorodska Street where Debbie and Lenny’s father once lived. They had never been there before and were quite moved when they saw his grand, corner house still standing. The house has two second floor balconies overlooking the street.
In what may have been the master bedroom, Debbie read out loud a moving letter she wrote to her father, Moshe Yitzchok Jacober (may his memory be for a blessing), as if he were still with us (the letter was Alan’s idea). The letter stressed how fortunate she felt to be on this tour where she was able to retrace the footsteps of her father — an “incredible and unbelievable experience”. Lenny, her learned brother from Israel, with whom I had the pleasure to study Daf Yomi, also provided some kind words. Lenny emphasized that his father instilled in him and his sister the importance of having good character traits, particularly to be kind, graceful, and charitable . . . and to greet everyone with a smile. (This may be why Lenny — like my own dad, of loving memory — became a dentist!)
Next we walked across a bridge spanning the Latorika River. The river cut through the town. It was as calm as a gentle breeze on a cool autumn’s day. From the bridge, I saw several mountain peaks in the distance and a large castle on one of the peaks. Naomi explained to me that the castle was built in the 11th century and is now a museum that has a room devoted to Jewish history. She also said that in the room are photos and a list of all those deported from Munkacz to Auschwitz.
We then headed to a once flourishing Hebrew Gymnasium (Jewish high school) that had been attended by Suzette’s father, Debbie and Lenny’s father, and Bashi’s friend Ruth. The school included secular studies. On the way, we passed a memorial to villagers who were killed when helping to liberate the town from the Nazis in 1945. As we walked, I noticed how bustling and lively the town is with its well-dressed people (young and old alike) and lots and lots of shops – some very fancy! Naomi pointed out that “Munkacz has always been a European town, with each building having its own history.”
We arrived at the former Jewish high school. A plaque on the wall states: “In this building from 1924–1944 was a Hebrew Gymnasium — an important cultural and social center.” Bashi showed us a photo of her friend Ruth’s class. There were many students in the photo. We were invited into the big and stately building – now a secular business college. Inside we met a young female English teacher and a female student. We saw a conference room the rivals any in the United States. It contained a big and beautiful oval table and a large flat-screen TV. On the walls in the main hallway, there were beautifully framed photos of business students wearing medals for academic achievement. Although I was impressed by the college’s size and sophistication, I was also dismayed about the tragic and unimaginable loss of what used to be a prestigious and world-class Jewish institution.
Back at the hotel we boarded the bus for our trip back to Budapest with an en route stop at Mad, Hungary. The bus was stuck, however, because of a parked car blocking the way. While the police figured out what to do, many of us took advantage of the extra time by walking over to a nearby café with an outdoor patio. The whole town was full of people and shoppers. The weather was warm for November (60s) and the sun was still shining. It was mid-afternoon. We sat outside at a large table enjoying various hot drinks while just relaxing and people watching. After someone moved the car, we got back on the bus and drove though the countryside to Mad, while admiring the beautiful fall colors, Carpathian mountain vistas, and tranquil farm land. As the bus drove along, we also listened to outstanding presentations by members of our group on various scholarly subjects pertinent to our travels.
Our visit to Mad was incredibly meaningful and moving but that story will be left for others…. ~Bob
