Horowitz Travel- Israel-Jerusalem-Yad Vshem-
January 16, 2017
We conquered the transportation system. We have a bus card & got where we were going, but it was a learning curve.
We were told that bus cards were purchasable from the driver, but Mr. Bus #14 wasn't in agreement. He said we had to go to the Central Bus Station. That's where we were going anyway. We bought a ticket from him & got off at the end of the line. We were not at anything resembling a bus station. He waved us down the street to what was obvious to him. We interrupted some soldiers on cell phones (a perpetual appendage) who waved us on in the same direction. A security guard pointed to a metal detector through which we walked and found ourselves in a downscale multi-level mall. No signs in any language mentioned buses, so we asked. The station was up two floors. The escalators we needed weren't contiguous, but we found the second one in due time. We lined up at a window only to be told ticket purchases were at terminal 22. It was beyond all the other gates, down an endless hall, & past the rest rooms. The nice lady there asked us for our passports so we could get tourist passes. We offered her copies. Our passports are secured in the apt. She said that what we needed were "anonymous" bus passes. Those were for sale at the original window we went to. At least we knew where that was. Unfortunately, the guy there hadn't heard of "anonymous" passes. He said, "I don't know what you want." David replied, "Me either." At that point we didn't care if it was anonymous, senior, tourist, or subversive. He finally sold us the damn pass. I felt like saying, "Dorothy, we're not in Switzerland anymore."
Ah, but there was more confusion. Where was the bus to Yad Vshem, the Holocaust Memorial? David was embarrassed to go back to the same man, so we went to another window. We couldn't understand that man's English. I sheepishly went back to the original ticket window and was greeted warmly & familiarly. With great care, he said we should go to the "tren" (guttural 'r'). I held up ten fingers and asked if he meant gate 10? He shook his head vigorously & gestured out the window repeating "tren, tren." It dawned on me, as a train rolled by, that he was saying "train." There was a light rail across the street. It took our passes, & we were off. Whew!
We exited the train & followed signs to a treed path forming a link between present and past. The parking circle at the entrance was filled with buses carrying U.S. & Canadian Birthright college kids & Israeli students. The place was hopping.
We had first been to Yad Vshem in 1974. The second time was in 1995. The campus has grown enormously since then. We had sandwiches in a cafe overlooking the hills & I recalled how our granddaughter, Talia, described her experience eating there on Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day for the military) surrounded by soldiers. My heart hurt to think that she witnessed what we were about to see.
There is no describing the, by now, familiar atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis on 12 million. This memorial has a Jewish orientation highlighting the six million murdered. There is mention of disabled, homosexuals, gypsies, Jehovah's Witnesses, Communists, etc. who totaled another six million killed. You are all aware, & if your memory has faded, I urge you to either go to the Holocaust Memorial in Washington, DC, a memorial near you, read, watch documentaries. We tend to let the horrors recede, but we need to be jolted back to the possibility of recurrence: not just for Jews, but for any people. One of the first quotes we read was, "A country is not just what it does, it is also what it tolerates." Neighbors turned their backs & were complicit. Media was censored. Lies were told ad nauseum until truth was indiscernible. Take the time to look up what Martin Niemoller, a German Lutheran pastor & anti-Nazi theologian had to say.
There didn't seem to be a country in Europe & Russia that was untouched. Oh yes, Switzerland didn't lose any Jews. Neither did Turkey or Denmark. Bulgaria was a puppet of Nazi Germany, but saved it's Jews by "filling its quota" with Jews from Macedonia & Thrace.
Exhausted, drained, emotionally raw, we exited into daylight. Relief was short lived. I noticed smoke wafting from a waste basket. I alerted a guard who took it very seriously. I expected he'd summon the military, but he ran into the men's room, emerged with a bucket of water, & doused it. Crises over.
But we hadn't finished tormenting ourselves. The Children's Memorial is genius in its simplicity. We entered the dark, candle lit maze to the sounds of the reading of the list of names, ages, & countries of children murdered by the Nazis: age 2, age 16, age 8........ Brutal.
Our return to the present was by way of a train ride. We sat opposite two teens who chatted interchangeably in Hebrew & English. Their exchanges were peppered with the inimitable "like" in both languages. At the bus station, we re-entered the crazy world of Israeli irrationality. We went to the bus stop across the street from where we'd been dropped off earlier. The logic was that we'd be going in the opposite direction. Nope! We were on the wrong side. Bus #14 was waiting where we'd gotten off that morning. We boarded, asked if it went to our area & were told this was the end of the line for that bus. We had to get bus the #14 back two blocks further along the street. As we walked, we joked that it would probably be the same bus. Sure enough, 6 minutes later, as promised, the same bus driver pulled up to where we waited & let us board.
Dinner was disappointing, but when we came out of the restaurant, a couple from New Rochelle, NY, asked if we enjoyed our meal. We were honest & were able to make several recommendations finally walking them to a falafel place. We're going native.
Today is our son-in-law, Julian's, birthday. As we were speaking to him, the doorbell rang. Our downstairs neighbor gently told us that our porch light had been on for a week (expensive) & our awning was open blocking sunlight to her apartment. We were very apologetic & she was very sweet about it. All this took place in English, Hebrew, & French.
Tomorrow is sheet washing, housecleaning, shopping day. We'll take it easy...maybe.
Toby
We conquered the transportation system. We have a bus card & got where we were going, but it was a learning curve.
We were told that bus cards were purchasable from the driver, but Mr. Bus #14 wasn't in agreement. He said we had to go to the Central Bus Station. That's where we were going anyway. We bought a ticket from him & got off at the end of the line. We were not at anything resembling a bus station. He waved us down the street to what was obvious to him. We interrupted some soldiers on cell phones (a perpetual appendage) who waved us on in the same direction. A security guard pointed to a metal detector through which we walked and found ourselves in a downscale multi-level mall. No signs in any language mentioned buses, so we asked. The station was up two floors. The escalators we needed weren't contiguous, but we found the second one in due time. We lined up at a window only to be told ticket purchases were at terminal 22. It was beyond all the other gates, down an endless hall, & past the rest rooms. The nice lady there asked us for our passports so we could get tourist passes. We offered her copies. Our passports are secured in the apt. She said that what we needed were "anonymous" bus passes. Those were for sale at the original window we went to. At least we knew where that was. Unfortunately, the guy there hadn't heard of "anonymous" passes. He said, "I don't know what you want." David replied, "Me either." At that point we didn't care if it was anonymous, senior, tourist, or subversive. He finally sold us the damn pass. I felt like saying, "Dorothy, we're not in Switzerland anymore."
Ah, but there was more confusion. Where was the bus to Yad Vshem, the Holocaust Memorial? David was embarrassed to go back to the same man, so we went to another window. We couldn't understand that man's English. I sheepishly went back to the original ticket window and was greeted warmly & familiarly. With great care, he said we should go to the "tren" (guttural 'r'). I held up ten fingers and asked if he meant gate 10? He shook his head vigorously & gestured out the window repeating "tren, tren." It dawned on me, as a train rolled by, that he was saying "train." There was a light rail across the street. It took our passes, & we were off. Whew!
We exited the train & followed signs to a treed path forming a link between present and past. The parking circle at the entrance was filled with buses carrying U.S. & Canadian Birthright college kids & Israeli students. The place was hopping.
We had first been to Yad Vshem in 1974. The second time was in 1995. The campus has grown enormously since then. We had sandwiches in a cafe overlooking the hills & I recalled how our granddaughter, Talia, described her experience eating there on Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day for the military) surrounded by soldiers. My heart hurt to think that she witnessed what we were about to see.
There is no describing the, by now, familiar atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis on 12 million. This memorial has a Jewish orientation highlighting the six million murdered. There is mention of disabled, homosexuals, gypsies, Jehovah's Witnesses, Communists, etc. who totaled another six million killed. You are all aware, & if your memory has faded, I urge you to either go to the Holocaust Memorial in Washington, DC, a memorial near you, read, watch documentaries. We tend to let the horrors recede, but we need to be jolted back to the possibility of recurrence: not just for Jews, but for any people. One of the first quotes we read was, "A country is not just what it does, it is also what it tolerates." Neighbors turned their backs & were complicit. Media was censored. Lies were told ad nauseum until truth was indiscernible. Take the time to look up what Martin Niemoller, a German Lutheran pastor & anti-Nazi theologian had to say.
There didn't seem to be a country in Europe & Russia that was untouched. Oh yes, Switzerland didn't lose any Jews. Neither did Turkey or Denmark. Bulgaria was a puppet of Nazi Germany, but saved it's Jews by "filling its quota" with Jews from Macedonia & Thrace.
Exhausted, drained, emotionally raw, we exited into daylight. Relief was short lived. I noticed smoke wafting from a waste basket. I alerted a guard who took it very seriously. I expected he'd summon the military, but he ran into the men's room, emerged with a bucket of water, & doused it. Crises over.
But we hadn't finished tormenting ourselves. The Children's Memorial is genius in its simplicity. We entered the dark, candle lit maze to the sounds of the reading of the list of names, ages, & countries of children murdered by the Nazis: age 2, age 16, age 8........ Brutal.
Our return to the present was by way of a train ride. We sat opposite two teens who chatted interchangeably in Hebrew & English. Their exchanges were peppered with the inimitable "like" in both languages. At the bus station, we re-entered the crazy world of Israeli irrationality. We went to the bus stop across the street from where we'd been dropped off earlier. The logic was that we'd be going in the opposite direction. Nope! We were on the wrong side. Bus #14 was waiting where we'd gotten off that morning. We boarded, asked if it went to our area & were told this was the end of the line for that bus. We had to get bus the #14 back two blocks further along the street. As we walked, we joked that it would probably be the same bus. Sure enough, 6 minutes later, as promised, the same bus driver pulled up to where we waited & let us board.
Dinner was disappointing, but when we came out of the restaurant, a couple from New Rochelle, NY, asked if we enjoyed our meal. We were honest & were able to make several recommendations finally walking them to a falafel place. We're going native.
Today is our son-in-law, Julian's, birthday. As we were speaking to him, the doorbell rang. Our downstairs neighbor gently told us that our porch light had been on for a week (expensive) & our awning was open blocking sunlight to her apartment. We were very apologetic & she was very sweet about it. All this took place in English, Hebrew, & French.
Tomorrow is sheet washing, housecleaning, shopping day. We'll take it easy...maybe.
Toby
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