Who Could Imagine a Breakaway Republic and Frank Zappa in Vilnius?

Lithuania is one of the Baltic States, squeezed between Latvia, Belarus, Poland and Russia. In 1990, it was the first state to assert its independence from Soviet control; and the Soviet Army finally withdrew in 1993. It has been a member of the European Union and NATO only since 2004. The country had a lot of economic catching up to do.

Vilnius is the capital. I was impressed with how European and modern it feels. There is much new construction and industry around technology. A lot of serious work has been accomplished and much remains to be done. 

For fun, Vilnius has within its borders a separate country called the Uzupis Republic. Sort of like Vatican City embedded within the City of Rome. Except that Uzupis is more of a joke, or a hippie commune, or artists' version of a frat party. Although it is merely a district within the city of Vilnius, it has its own constitution. No neckties allowed. There are 41 points in the constitution; each is a sentence long.  Everyone has the right to idle. Everyone has the right to die, but this is not an obligation. Some contradict each other. Do not fight back. Do not surrender. 

You can buy a visa to visit, but you don't have to.  

Sign of Entry into Uzupis Republic

Bridge over the River Vilnele; Lovers' Locks in the Foreground, Drinking Party on the Bank in Background

Place to Buy a Visa

Fabulous Guide Svetlana Shtarkman in front of Uzupis' symbol of hole in hand signifying Poverty

Exiting Uzupis Republic

Frank Zappa, the American rock star of Mothers of Invention fame, has a statue in his honor in Vilnus, Lithuania. Why? He never visited Vilnius. He does not have any ancestors from Vilnius. He was an Italian guy born in Baltimore. There is nothing to suggest that he ever thought about or had any awareness of Vilnius. Yet, the statue was dedicated in his honor in 1995, two years after he died, depicting Zappa as a symbol of democracy and freedom to mark the end of communism. As the Vilnius guidebook "Vilnius in your Pocket" advises, if you are wondering what the link is between Vilnus and Frank Zappa, don't. There isn't one.

The city's key tourist attractions offer digital links to recorded explanations playable on your smart phone when you scan the code affixed to the statue. Frank Zappa cues up his Mothers of Invention album "Freak Out" and links to a youtube of him singing, "Who could imagine that they would freak out in Kansas? Kansas. Kansas. Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo." 

Frank is the perfect antidote to a trip spent visiting the path of destruction of the Czar's army, followed by the Nazi murderers and then the Soviet regime. 

Frank Zappa Monument by sculptor Knostantinas Bogdanas who made busts of Lenin and Moscow bureaucrats

Reviving Jewish Life in Poland: JCC and Klezmer WannaBe Bands

The Nazis nearly succeeded in wiping out the entire Jewish population of Poland. Of the 11 million Jewish Poles before World War II, only about 1 million survived the war and most of them left. Although nearly all of the Jewish people were gone, some of their culture such as music, food and Yiddish expressions remained embedded in Polish life. Like a charred forest after a blaze, there are small signs of reemergence.

In the former Jewish district of Cracow known as Kasimierz, visitors are encouraged to attend a performance of Klezmer Music - the traditional lively Jewish fiddle music that you would hear in Fiddler on the Roof.  And, restaurants serving Jewish food have placed signs on the sidewalk, inviting customers. Those seem like encouraging indications that Jews have returned to the neighborhood from which they were wrenched. Except not. The Klezmer bands and the restaurants serving Jewish food are run by non-Jews.  This is how Poland is healing from the horrible times.

Curiosity about Jews and Jewish culture has also fueled the creation of the world's largest Jewish festival, Jewish Culture Festival. Initiated as communism waned in 1988 by two non-Jews, Janusz Makuch and Krzysztof Gierat sought to regain Poland's Jewish identity. For 10 days, nearly 30,000 people from all over the world attend or watch it on public television with the aim of personally experiencing contemporary Jewish culture.


Cracow opened a Jewish Community Center in September 2017. One of the leading donors to its funding was Prince Charles who had been deeply moved by the plight of the elderly Jews in Cracow whose community had been decimated.  The JCC's preschool began with an enrollment of four students. It is now up to fourteen.

For a visitor like me coming from the United States, the lack of security is puzzling. Whereas we are accustomed to locked doors requiring cameras and identification credentials for admission, Cracow's JCC doors are wide open. Moreover, a banner outside the building's entrance says, "Stop By and Say Hi".  We did.

Terrific guide, Thomasz Klimek and Receptionist at Cracow Jewish Community Center (See the pamphlet on the right, "Building a Jewish Future"?)

Holocaust survivor who was talking with German students during our visit. After years of keeping silent, she decided that it is important to tell her story.

Never Again Look at Packing the Same Way (Auschwitz)

Seeing it helps you believe it. The memorial at Auschwitz offers visual representations to try to help visitors comprehend the crimes committed by the Nazis during the Holocaust.

The Nazis were able to control Jewish resistance by lying. The Nazis deceived their prisoners by telling them that they were being transported to a different location. The Jews were permitted to take a suitcase, spurring them to focus on preparing for the trip - what to pack and how much to take. The victims carefully labeled their luggage, believing they would be reunited with it upon arrival.  They vacated their residences and boarded the trains.

My brain gets numb listening to the numbers of people murdered. But, the sight of 80,000 shoes piled up is heartbreaking.

One panel in a hallway displaying 80,000 shoes

Shoes on Display

Prostheses, Crutches, Braces

Eyeglasses

I thought this part of Auschwitz looked almost like a college campus

Book of 16,000 pages of people killed at Auschwitz

People looking at the 4 million names on the 16,000 pages

Gas Chamber

Visitors Exiting the Gas Chamber

Oven

How an Iconic Statue Went Up, Down, Up, Down, Up through Lithuanian Regime Changes

Three Crosses Monument, or Triju Kryziu Kalnas in Vilnius

This tall white structure towers over Vilnius, Lithuania's capital city, from a prominent hilltop. The monument dates back to 1613, when it was first made of wood and erected on the same spot. Over the intervening four hundred years since it was erected, it has been taken down twice and put up two more times. What staying power. Here's the travel of the poor thing.

1. UP in 1613, made of wood to commemorate 14 Franciscans. Legend has it that they came as missionaries and were martyred on this site.

2. DOWN in 1864 when Lithuania was under control of the Russian empire, the Russian administrator removed it after a revolt.

3. UP in 1916, this time made of concrete, funded by donations from the city's residents.

4. DOWN during the Soviet era, when religious icons were destroyed.

Soviets destroyed the concrete monument and left it on the ground

5. UP in 1989 when Lithuania became liberated from the Soviet Union, as the monument stands today.

View over Vilnius from Three Crosses Monument

Mass Murder Concealed in Lithuania's Ponar Forest - A Wrong Still Not Acknowledged

Ponar Forest Memorial -- Completely Inaccessible to anyone who speaks a language other than Lithuanian, Russian, Yiddish or Hebrew

Unless you can read Lithuanian, Russian, Yiddish or Hebrew, you would never know of the 100,000 lives that were brutally taken in the Ponar Forest in Lithuania during World War II.  And, even if you could understand those languages, the message is so vague that it fails to tell the full story.

My husband and I visited the Ponar Forest having heard of it, but not knowing much. If we had not been led by an expert guide, we would have learned very little.

Ponar Memorial -- For What? You might ask....

Svetlana Shtarkman, an excellent guide, telling the story of what happened in Ponar; at a small killing pit

Pit Where Nazis forced Jews to live so they could work in the killing forest, digging up bodies from the pits and burning them to destroy evidence

More than 70 years have passed after World War II ended. Most of the horrors have been told. Many memorials have been erected across Europe to commemorate places where Nazis killed hundreds, thousands, and millions of people.

There is a curious holdout in Lithuania. The place is called Ponar Forest. It is just outside of Lithuania's capital city, Vilnius, and until World War II, was a pleasant summer retreat from the city. Before the Nazis invaded Lithuania, Russia's Red Army had occupied this area and had dug pits for military fuel storage tanks. The Nazis pushed out the Red Army and invaded Vilnius. The Nazis took over Ponar and between 1941 and 1944, they transported about 100,000 people to the forest in trucks. They were dumped into pits and killed. Many were Soviets and about 70,000 of them were Jews.

A Polish journalist named Kazimierz Sakowicz lived in view of the forest and surreptitiously kept notes on what he observed in terms of numbers of people transported, sounds, and activities day and night. He buried his notes in bottles in his garden. He was killed during the war. His diary notes were later unearthed and published in 2005 by Yale University Press to reveal the gruesome story.

But, the Nazi horrors is only part of the significance of Ponar.

Lithuania's government avoids talking about what happened. Yes, there is a monument, but No, it is not accessible to most people in the world. When a delegation from Israel visited the monument, which was only in Lithuanian at the time, they asked for a translation. It said, "For the memory of innocent Soviet citizens who died during the Nazi regime".

What? No mention that 70% of those who were killed there were Jewish? The Israelis asked why nothing was said about the Jews. The Soviets had erected the monument; and told the history as they saw it. They honored the Soviets who died at Ponar. Ironically, the dead were Red Army soldiers who perished at Ponar because they were left abandoned when the Soviets pulled out.

But, according to our guide Svetlana, the thing that stings the most now is that Lithuania does not acknowledge the collaboration by local Lithuanian citizens. Half the population (i.e. the Jews) was forced by the Nazis to leave their homes, while the other half of the population (i.e. the Lithuanians) were silent. People still talk today about how Lithuanian villagers would openly enjoy the belongings of their persecuted Jewish neighbors, wearing their coats or using their household goods.

Memorial in Ponar Forest erected by Jews who raised their own money for this gravestone to "Our Beloved People Who Died in World War II"

Synagogue Spotting in Lithuania

Former Synagogue now used for a Kaunas Auto Body shop. LEFT SIDE: Women's section was on the upper floor

I traveled to Lithuania to see where my father's family came from. His parents were part of the enormous influx of Eastern European Jews who migrated to the United States through Ellis Island in the early 1900s.  It turns out that my roots were hard to find.

But, by traveling with a guide who is an expert in architecture and sociology, we learned to spot where Jews had lived one hundred years ago. Our guide, Svetlana Shtarkman, pointed out the typical exterior architecture of Lithuanian synagogues: a large meeting hall taking up more than half of the length of the building (right side of the photo above), with the remainder arrayed over two stories with smaller windows (left side of the photo above). This arrangement allows for a high-ceilinged sanctuary plus an upper floor gallery for the women’s section. The women were segregated upstairs behind curtains or screens. Hundreds of synagogues were erected across Lithuania in its cities of Vilnius and Kaunas, and in the dozens of small rural villages called shtetls spread across the country.

Lithuania’s nearly total loss of Jewish residents resulted in scores of synagogue buildings going empty. With no Jews left to worship in them, the structures have been converted to serve other purposes. Some are used as community centers or gathering places. Those often bear a plaque telling their prior history. Others not. 

Synagogue in Ziczmariai, a former shtetl, undergoing renovation as a community center 

Same synagogue, viewed in the courtyard where it was the center of Jewish life when the town was a shtetl

Shop Detectors: How to know if a Lithuanian House was Jewish

Typical Jewish House in Ziczmariai (Ziezmar in Yiddish), a Shetl in Lithuania 

During the 1800s, Lithuanian Jews had been encouraged to settle into rural shtetls. In over 200 shtetls that were established and spread across the area near the cities of Vilnius and Kaunas, the Jews were relegated to serve a specific purpose - to jumpstart commerce. The Jews were expected to conduct a market in the town for trading twice a week. They located their homes in the center of town, primarily bordering the central square marketplace and radiating out from there. Jews made their homes serve double purpose as a shop and a residence. Some Jewish homes even had two doors facing the street: one for the shop and the other for the residence. 

Shtetl home originally built by a Jewish merchant: one door for the shop; one door for the home

However, the typical homes of Lithuanians have the entrance door through the side, with only windows facing the street. The Lithuanians were traditional farmers who were self-sufficient, feeding themselves and their families from their own farms. They did not orient their homes to the street like the Jewish merchants did.

Typical Lithuanian Home - Entrance door is on the side

After the Jews Moved Out, Their Homes Were Converted 

After Jews left their homes, the Lithuanians converted the layout to their custom, replacing the street door with windows, and relocating the entrance to the side of the property. In the photo below, the street-facing door has been removed, but the threshold step still remains in the place where the door had been.

Former home of a Jewish merchant; converted to Lithuanian home by removing street-facing door

Very few Jews remain in Lithuania after what the Russian Tzars, Nazis and then the Soviets did to them.  Today, there are less than 5,000 Jews in the country of Lithuania, down from 2.4 million in the region of Lithuania and Poland before World War II.

My family lore was that the Russian Army was the reason they left. My father's family ripped up their lives, scraped money together and traveled halfway around the world to the United States where they knew no one and did not speak English. But, I wondered, what was it about the Russian Army that caused them to leave? I had maintained visions of Tzarist soldiers on horseback, stampeding into the Jewish shtetls, wearing brass buttoned capes and swinging bayonets to terrorize the Jewish inhabitants.

It took a visit to Lithuania, with travel to shtetls with a knowledgeable guide, to understand more.

What happened to the Jews?
Beginning around 1850, Russia controlled Lithuania and Poland. There were about 2.4 million Jews in the territory, making Jews among the largest minorities in the Russian Empire. In the view of Tsar Nicholas I, the Jews needed to be assimilated and Russified.  The way to do that was through education - specifically, military education.  Russia imposed an edict of military conscription. At the age of 12, Jewish boys were taken from their families and sent far away from their families, to schools where they were not allowed to practice Judaism. At age 18, they were required to serve in the Russian military for the next 25 years. Eventually, many of the Jews who served in the Russian military converted to Christianity. I cannot fathom what it felt like to have one's sons taken away for 31 years.

From the time of the Tsarist conscription through the Nazi era, the Jewish population of Lithuania has dwindled to nearly none.

Lithuanian menu: One Potato, Two Potato, Three Potato, MORE

Kepta Duona Su Suriu: fried bread with garlic and hot cheese dipping sauce

For the first night in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, it seemed advisable to eat at a traditional Lithuanian restaurant “like your grandmother’s cooking”. Senoji Trobele is a small cottage with an open air garden. The homey decor and welcoming waitresses were the perfect antidote to a day of airports and cramped up plane rides. We had been warned that the Lithuanian menu is pretty much all potatoes. As a diversifier from the potatoes, we ordered fried bread with garlic and hot dipping cheese. Those were delicious and our favorite item of the meal. The closest thing to compare them to is a plate of crispy French fried potatoes.

The amount of potatoes in our meal was astonishing.

1. Cepelinai, sounds like "zeppelin" because it is one. A big wad of potato flour is formed around a ball of ground pork stuffed in the center.  After eating that as an appetizer, you really should stop eating because it makes you full. But we didn't stop because we had ordered tons more to eat.

Cepelinai

2. The Lithuanian word for this purple soup dish is Saltibarsciai. It is Beet Borscht -- just like I remember my grandmother making it. She mixed sour cream into the beet soup, turning it a bright magenta. Hard boiled eggs, dill and boiled potatoes (again with the potatoes)....and a side of boiled potatoes (but not worth a photograph).

3. Potato pancakes (grated potatoes mixed with onion and fried in oil), served with cottage cheese. So delicious. Could have stopped there, but did not.

4. The main course was whipped potatoes served with lamb (too full to take a picture).  

Herb after dinner drink, kind of like Jaegermeister, served cold in a cup made of ice

Taste test results: the fried bread, non-potato item was the best, even though it tasted like potatoes.