Czech It Out!

Enroute to Prague:
Continuing to follow the Elbe into the Czech Republic, we encountered Ceske Svycarsko (sorry, I haven't figured out how to insert accented letters into the blog, but trust me, Ceske Svycarsko contains four of them). Ceske Svycarsko, or Bohemian Switzerland, is the Czech extension of Sachsische Schweiz (umlaut missing on the "a"), or Saxony Switzerland, the area of Germany we just left. The Elbe River became the Labe as we entered Ceske Svycarsko, but otherwise, the countryside, with its forests and tall rock formations, were very similar to what we saw in Saxony Switzerland. Actually, relative to the "touristy" towns and villages we passed along the Elbe in the former DDR, the Czech towns and villages along the Labe did not appear to have made as much effort as the Germans to attract tourists. Admittedly, we also did not stop for a closer look. Our immediate goal was to visit Roudnice, the site of the synagogue from which our hometown synagogue's Holocaust Torah originated.

Roudnice (see photo), a city of about 13,000 people and approximately 50 kilometers north of Prague, does not get even a mention in our Rough Guide to the Czech Republic. Nevertheless, it, too, borders the Labe and has its tourist information center on the main square. The city center was rather drab (admittedly, the weather was overcast), and there was little activity around the square on this Saturday afternoon (see photo). We lunched at a locals restaurant with relatively plain food. Only the manager (he might also have been the owner) spoke a sufficient amount of German and English for us to manage our food order. He was extremely pleased, however, with my attempts to use the few Czech words and phrases I practiced in the car that morning (e.g. (with accents missing), ano (yes); ne (no), prosim (please); dekuju (thank you), dobry den (good day)), and he helped me out with na shledanou (goodbye).

The Roudnice tourist map marks the location of both the "old" and "new" Jewish cemeteries, and lists the old cemetery as one of several highlighted sights. The old cemetery had a new wall around it and there was a monument just outside the wall (see photo). It was unclear to me, however, whether the monument was related to the cemetery. Most of the headstones that had fallen over were propped up and the area had a semblance of maintenance (see photos). We could not determine the age of the oldest headstones, because their engravings were entirely in Hebrew and did not include ordinal dates. I've read, however, that they date back to the early 1600's. The more modern stones (1800's) were mostly in German and included dates as late as the end of the 19th century (see photo), when the new cemetery and now destroyed synagogue were opened farther from the center of town. The switch from Hebrew to German (this area was part of the Sudetenland and was heavily ethnic German) is probably an indication of the spread of reform Judaism (which had its origins in Germany) and of the growing assimilation of Jews into European society. In any event, it certainly made no difference to the Nazis 50 years later. (Indeed, a majority of the ethnic Germans in pre-World War II Sudetenland were pro-Nazi. After World War II, the Czechs and Slovaks expelled over two-million ethnic Germans who had been fascism supporters.)






In sharp contrast to the old cemetery, the new Jewish cemetery sat at the edge of town, just beyond the Christian cemetery. Like the old cemetery, the new cemetery was surrounded by a wall. However, unlike the old cemetery, the new one was locked up. With the exception of a few granite slabs, no headstones were visible; and the remains of the former synagogue sat in ruins (see photos). Those of you who have seen the replica of the synagogue's entrance arches in the courtyard at Congregation Beth Am would be saddened by the further decay, although some cement work has been added to maintain the semblance of the former arches (see photo). No signpost marks the site. Although the site is otherwise a ruin, one can see that it sits in a rather idyllic spot. A large field covers two sides of the site, and about 150 meters away, children were happily playing soccer. It is ironic that the Nazis saved about 1500 Torah scrolls from Czech synagogues, with the goal of creating a museum of an extinct race. Although it is extremely meaningful for the boys and girls of our San Diego congregation to read from the former Roudnice congregation's Torah, it is a shame that the money spent for the acquisition of this and other Holocaust Torah scrolls ultimately went into Soviet controlled coffers, rather than to assist the few remaining Jews in the area.

Saddened and sobered, we proceeded to Prague via Melnik (less than 50 kilometers north of Prague), where the Labe and Vltava rivers meet (see photo). With vineyards hugging the hillside (see photo), Melnik is also the center of Bohemia's wine producing region. In addition, it featured two wonderfully nostalgic Coca Cola signs (see photos)! We passed on the Church of St. Petr and Pavel's ossuary of 10,000 bones of medieval plague victims. Viewing human remains failed to make it onto our "must see or else" list. Although Terezin (just north of Roudnice), site of the Nazi's "model" concentration camp (open for viewing by the International Red Cross during World War II, but in reality, a way station mostly for Czech Jews on their way to the gas chambers of Auschwitz), was on my "must see" list, I bowed to Henry's adamant refusal (too upsetting for him) to visit any concentration camps. Had I not visited the concentration camp in Dachau, near Munich, and had we spent more time in the Czech Republic, I would have managed to find my way to Terezin. Since I want to return to Prague in any event, I will include Terezin on my next visit.

Prague:
The Hotel Silenzio (no joke, that's the name!) perfectly met Henry's need for a quiet place to stay in Prague. Though not in the middle of the hubbub, the hotel was close enough to the center of Prague by tram or metro that even I enjoyed the location (a bit north of the Prague Castle), and Henry allowed me to leave the room window open! The highlight of Prague for both Henry and me was the guided tour we took of the Jewish Quarter. Taking the tour was Henry's concession to me (non-sightseer that he is), but, after the tour, surprise of surprises, he thanked me for "making" him join me. The guide, Roman Bily (see photo), whom we highly recommend, was born in Prague in 1968, and he vehemently "hates" Communism. When I asked him if he had a religious affiliation, he referred to himself as Czech, and although he then volunteered that he goes to "shul" twice a day and studies Talmud, he did not call himself Jewish. He further commented that 70% of the Czech population is atheist, although we do not know what question was posed to elicit that response. Perhaps, Roman meant agnostic?? Roman spoke excellent English, and, having learned the language from watching films in English, he made repeated references to classic American movies. He knew more about some films than I did, and taught us some things about Jewish tradition of which I was unaware.

As with the Torah scrolls and other Jewish artifacts, the Nazis left 6 synagogues standing in the Prague Jewish Quarter, all within a few blocks of each other. They were meant to be part of the museum of the extinct Jewish race. During World War II, Torahs and artifacts were catalogued and stored in the synagogues, and today, these synagogues (except the Old-New Synagogue), along with the Hevrah Kaddishah (mortuary), make up the Jewish Museum of Prague. (Sorry, no inside photos were permitted, but see outside photos). The Old-New Synagogue (when it was built in the 13th century, it was the "new" synagogue, but when other synagogues were subsequently built, it became known as the Old-New Synagogue) (see photo with tall, pointed roof) continues to hold services (strictly Orthodox) today, and is the oldest functioning synagogue in Europe.



















Jews have been in Prague since the 10th century, but persecution of the Jews began long before the Nazis. By the end of the 11th century, the Crusaders had moved through Prague, killing Jews and others in their wake, and for hundreds of years, Jews lived in a walled ghetto and were subject to a curfew, restricted to certain professions, and forced to wear a badge or cap identifying them as Jews. The Jews turned these identifying markers into badges of honor, and often proudly displayed the yellow pointed cap with a round pompom on top (e.g., the cap sits inside a number of Stars of David) (see photo)). Over time, restrictions eased, and in the mid-1800's, Jews were permitted full citizenship and many Jews moved out of the ghetto. In the meantime, however, the Ghetto's Jewish Cemetery, with its layer upon layer of graves (some spots had up to 12 layers--accomplished simply by adding height to the wall surrounding the cemetery) (see photo)) had to be closed due to overcrowding. I've read differing estimates that between 100,000 and 200,000 people were buried in the tiny space between the 1400's and when it was closed in 1787.



















At one time, there were about 120,000 Jews living in Prague. However, as conditions worsened with Hitler's rise to power, many Jews left the country in the 1930's. Unfortunately, a number of them moved east and north, and ultimately suffered the same fate as those who remained. At the start of World War II, 90,000 to 100,000 Jews lived in Prague, about 20 percent of the city's population. Approximately 80,000 Czech Jews died at the hands of the Nazis, most of them in Auschwitz. So rich in Jewish heritage, Prague is currently home to just a couple of thousand Jews, but more are settling there.

We had an additional "photo op" at the Jewish Community Federation of the Czech Republic/Jewish Town Hall. The clock with the Roman numerals runs clockwise, while the clock below it, with the Hebrew letters, runs counter-clockwise! While we did not see much overt additional security around the Jewish Museum buildings, the police presence was obvious at the Town Hall (see photo).





























It was heartening to see that the Jewish Quarter, in the middle of Prague's Old Town, is a draw for Jews and non-Jews alike. The tour was especially eye-opening to a young Irish Catholic woman on our tour. She was awestruck by the atrocities committed against the Jews, and repeatedly invoked the name "Jesus" as she listened to the guide's history lesson. On my return to Prague, whenever that may be, I must revisit the synagogues and spend more time in each one. The tour moved us through too quickly to take in the enormity of what was there and lost, but surely not obliterated.

We wandered the streets, squares, byways, and alleys of Prague;visited Prague Castle (a disappointment after being spoiled by King Ludwig II, but admittedly, its origins preceded Ludwig II by about 800 years),its major cathedral within the castle enclave,
and its attractive gardens;
walked across the Charles Bridge (which reminded me of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence (lots of tourists and kitsch purveyors)) (the bridge's magnificence is also marred by the fact that it is in the process of being rebuilt while it remains open); marched along the boulevard in front of Wenceslas Square (more boulevard than square) (scene of numerous rallies over the years, including in 1969, when a student set himself on fire to protest the Soviet occupation, and in 1989, when 250,000 people repeatedly gathered there until the Soviets finally left);and especially enjoyed the panoramas of Pragueand the wonderful articulation on the facades of so many buildings from the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
As for culinary memories in Prague, there were only two: (1) roasted ribs at Budvarka; and (2) garlic soup at Sudicka. The garlic soup, a divine, cheesy soup with a side of garlic bread, was a distant cry from the thin, brothy garlic soup we had in Roudnice. It was the best we've ever tasted! We went to Sudicka on the recommendation of Sara's friend, Maya, who spent a semester in Prague. Given the many traditional gothic and baroque churches we've seen around Europe, Maya aptly described a landmark near the restaurant as "the funny looking church" (see photo).

We enjoyed our stay in Prague, but, while Henry had his fill of the city, I'm craving more. The city is teeming with tourists, but that's the price paid for a worthy destination.

Destination--Munich:
As we headed south and west on a circuitous route to Cesky Krumlov and then through the Sumava National Park region of southern Bohemia, we noted that, in comparison to Prague, fewer of the people we encountered spoke English. Although most menus were still printed in three languages--Czech, German, and English--it was easy to tell from the English translations (awkward syntax and incorrect use of various words) that English was not as prevalent as in the "big city" (see photo of street sign in Cesky Krumlov). When we checked into our pension in Cesky Krumlov, we discovered that the matronly manager (perhaps owner) spoke neither German nor English. Similarly, at the local brewery in Cesky Krumlov, when I tried to communicate in English, the woman to whom I made my inquiry asked me in German if I spoke German. We were able to communicate well enough in German for her to understand my question and for me to understand her answer. As Henry commented, as long as the Czechs knew we were not Germans speaking German, but simply German speakers, their distrust evaporated. When we stopped in the village of Lenora, in the Sumava region, and talked with a Bohemian cut glass artist who spoke some German and virtually no English, the artist was visibly relieved not to be dealing with Germans. In any event, he was quite pleased to help us part with our Czech krones (the Czech Republic is scheduled to move to the euro in 2012) by purchasing some of his cut glasses.

I'm sure it was not because of the language barrier, but our GPS (aka "Sadie") had some trouble guiding us to a couple of our Czech destinations. For example, arriving at our pension in Cesky Krumlov was no easy feat after Sadie insisted that we take right turns and left turns in the middle of forests from dirt roads to non-existent roads. Sadie also directed us to move magically from a deadend street to the continuation of that street 50 feet below. We have found, however, that Sadie is capable of eventually altering her preferred route if we "out-insist" her (i.e., by continuing to disobey her commands). In Sadie's defense, Garmin did send Henry an email offering to sell him the newest map software. He declined the offer, so we cannot complain too vociferously. In any event, lest we do end up on tiny roads, the Czechs kindly place white stripes on the trees along the sides of these roads (see photos). When we stop seeing the white stripes, we're in big trouble!


Cesky Krumlov was a wonderful find. Its size and compactness were perfect for an overnight stop on the way back to Munich. The entire town has a well-deserved UNESCO World Heritage site designation. The Vltava River flows through the small city in an S-shape, with the old town situated in one of the loops of the S. The Krumlovsky zamek chateau sits on a hill across the river and overlooks the old town and main cathedral in a picture-book setting (see photos). The beautifully painted castle tower and the castle gardens, with a lovely lily pond, are especially attractive (see photos). And, for those of you who feel out of your league at card tables in the United States, you can try your hand at poker in Cesky Krumlov (see photo)!


















































































Amazed at how quickly over eight months could pass, we drove our last leg of our European adventure back to Munich Airport. Rather than take a direct route, we meandered southwest through the Sumava National Park, the largest national park in the Czech Republic. The park borders Germany and Austria. Some small towns populate the area around Lake Lipno, a man-made lake to the north of the Sumava mountain range. We drove along the lake for a bit and watched as small vehicle and pedestrian ferries went back and forth across the lake (see photo). It was fitting that we should have our final lunch of our European sabbatical segment at a Michelin Red Guide recommended restaurant (Landgasthaus Emerenz Meier, near Freyung). To do so, however, we first needed to make our way back into Bavaria. Having passed on buying the Michelin Red for the Czech Republic, we had to count on only the rough Guide to the Czech Republic for five days! It wasn't too much of a sacrifice, although half of the restaurants listed in the Rough Guide's segment on Cesky Krumlov were either temporarily or permanently closed!

Postscript:
Having promised myself that I would complete the European segments of my blog before flying to NY for my 40th high school reunion, I am hereby putting to bed Chapter Two of Sabbatical Shmooze. Although Fall in Chicago will not be quite the same as eight months in Europe, you will hear from me again!