MOL-Belzec

Today is a big driving day. The kids could use some rest and most are sound asleep by the time we reach the highway. We are blessed once again to be travelling with Ernest and Ella Ehrmann. I make my way down the aisle to check up on everybody. One of our Herz boys asks me if I have a siddur - he didn't have time to put on tefillin and wants to do it now. I bring one from Ronen. A few moments later, I notice another boy putting on tefillin. The one teffilin and one siddur is passed from boy to boy. Our Herz boy helps those he need assistance. Ernest notices the action in the back of the bus and joins the boys. The bus is so quiet, so beautiful, so reflective. It looks like a gorgeous day today.  Ronen says the weather is fitting for our morning event!

The kids sleep for an hour and wake up with increased energy. We decide to play a bus wide game involving teams of 4 or 5. We build the teams by mixing friend groups with the goal of mixing everyone up. No complaints. The announced prize is met with enthusiasm and laughter. Members of the winning team get to sleep in an extra 15 minutes and receive breakfast in bed delivered by their chaperone. Remind the bus that the chaperones and Ronen are team number 5. If we win, a representative from each of the losing teams has to do wake-up duty. Game on.... The bus is loud, full if energy and laughter.

We arrive in Ligansk to learn about the Chassidut Movement of the 1700 and 1800s. The entire Montreal delegation squeezes into what looks like a tiny house. In actuality it is the grave sight of Rav Elimelech of Ligansk. Rabbi Poupko explains who Rav Elimelech was - one if the founders of Chassidut. The revolutionary philosophy of this movement was the belief that the simplest Jew could achieve closeness to God and an elevated spirituality through simple acts like song, dance, and human kindness. Study and prayer are not the only ways to get closer to God. Rav Elimelech wrote a beautiful prayer about seeing the good in every person, thinking positively and fighting negativity. Legends of goodness and kindness surround both the old Jewish town of Ligansk and the famous Rav Elimelech. The story goes: during the Nazi error, the Nazi entered Ligansk and ordered the Jews to destroy the grave if the Rav. They refused. Next they ordered the Poles to destroy the grave. They too refused. Next the Nazis ordered their own into the town. When the Nazis raise their ax above the grave, the ax head falls off. Every year, on the anniversary of Rav Elimelech's death, thousands of Chassidim from around the world visit his grave. They do so in order to be inspired by his qualities of kindness, humility and compassion. Ronen teaches us that, if fact, in Judaism this is the purpose of visiting a grave - to be reminded and elevated by the deceased's positive attributed and pass them on in your life. The kids are mesmerized and enchanted by the stories of the beautiful Jewish town and the famous Rav. Ronen teaches us a joyful nigun associated with Rav Elimelech. We catch on to the new tune quickly. Our singing get louder and louder until we too are lifted spiritually.

Next stop Belzec. "Was it a concentration camp, a labor camp or a death camp," the kids ask. It seems odd to hear these words from their mouths. Such harsh, ugly words coming from such innocence. We pull up the the Nelzec memorial sight. The skies cloud over and it begins to rain. Bizarre. We walk to the train tracks... always tracks, and huddle around Ronen.

Ronen starts with cold hard facts: half a million Jews were murdered here in a period of 9 months, 71 transports brought Jews in cattle cars, method of murder - gaz, Jews were not burned after death but rather buried in holes in the ground. The Nazis ran out of space within 9 months and closed the facility. Only one person survived from Belzec (by escaping). The kids listen in stunned silence - no questions, no comments. We walk the short distance from the tracks to the memorial site in 30 seconds. Ronen tells us that Jews arrived in Belzec and went immediately to the gaz chambers - no selection, no labor camp. The memorial is impressive - stark, grand, cold and imposing. We trace the steps of the Ligansk community we visited this morning. Walking together slowly down the narrow pathway listening to the Shema we go deeper and deeper into the horrors if the Shoah. We are now standing where the gas chambers used to be. We stop to light a yizkor candle. Ronen removes a package from his pocket and places it near the candle we just lit. He brought soil from Israel to place in this place of remembrance - this holy place. The rain continues. The thunder grows louder. We are cold and wet yet unable to move. I read El Maleh Rachamim in English and Ronen follows by reciting the prayer in Hebrew. We climb the steps to the top of the memorial sight keenly aware that those who entered some 70 years ago could not climb out. The tears come as we walk the perimeter of the sight reading all 71 names of transports. Nothing remains of the camp. The Nazis destroyed the chambers and planted trees where bodies used to be. The kids are drained after experiencing the highs of Rav Elimelech and the lows of Belzec. We board the bus in silence and begin our journey to Lublin.

Monica Mendel Bensoussan

MOL- The March

Wake up 5:15. The Montreal delegation boards our 5 buses and begins the hour drive to Auschwitz. The mood is somber - a combination of anxiety, trepidation and dread. We are here to participate in the international March from Auschwitz to Birkenau along with delegations from around the world. We have already met the delegations from Argentina and Brazil, staying in the same hotel as us. Today Ernest will share his story with us from inside a barrack at Birkenau - his barrack. My heart breaks just thinking about how he must feel this morning as he prepared for his testimony.

Today is different. The kids are keenly aware that today is different. They are quiet, pensive, reflective. Usually the bus rides are lively, loud, full of chatter, giggles, music. Not this morning.

8:00 PM: leaving Birkenau. The kids are exhausted, confused, emotionally drained, and hungry. We, their chaperones, feel the same. It's been difficult supporting the kids today while managing our own emotions. Not sure how to go about summarizing the day but I'll try. I know it will take quite some time to process this day. Right now I feel empty, almost hardened. Perhaps the responsibility of caring for fragile young adults hardened us to the events of the day so that we could be fully present to address their needs.

Arriving in Auschwitz this morning was surreal. The kids immediately commented on the numerous train tracks leading to Auschwitz. They are curious and worried - what will they see, how will they react, what happens if they don't react, how are they suppose to react...

We enter the camp in silence. The tears begin to flow. I don't know why, where they came from. We begin our tour of Auschwitz with Ronen and a Polish guide. The skies darken and the rain begins - appropriately. The kids huddle close to the guide listening to his every word. We enter block four and travel from exhibit to exhibit. The kids hang on Ronen's every word. They ask questions but every answer only brings more questions. We move to the next room. Physical evidence - shoes, suitcases, children's drawings, hair... The kids cry - girls and boys. We hug, we comfort, no words. What is there to say? There are no words. Each room evokes stronger emotions. I don't know who to comfort first. So many kids need us... We move from block to block in stunned silence, in pain, in disgust. The 2 hour tour ends with the book of names. Kids look for the names of lost family members. Some find the precious names while others frantically search. We must continue but they are not ready to leave. We enter the gas chamber and crematorium. No words just tears.

We board our bus to have lunch to escape the thunder and downpour of rain. The kids have no appetite. They want answers...but there are no answers. After a short debrief, the mood lightens and we prepare to participate in the actual March Of the Living. Buses arrive from everywhere. 10,000 Jews, young and old, take their positions along the barracks and prepare to March.  The mood is festive and I am uncomfortable. I thought it would be somber, serious, painful. The rain stops and the sun breaks through the clouds. The Montreal delegation is lead by our 6 survivors and representatives from each if our 5 buses. I am conflicted. Why are the kids chatting with each other and kids from other countries? The March begins. We walk in small groups, arm I arm, holding hands but the mood is still festive. Throngs of people wearing t- shirts from their respective delegations, draped in Israeli flags, carrying signs and posters walk. We walk in the footsteps of those who walked to their death from Auschwitz to Birkenau. But we are the living. We are the next generation. We are the holders of the Jewish religion, traditions and heritage. We are proof that the Nazis did not win. We are alive. Why not be festive. We celebrate life. We continue the unbreakable chain of Judaism. We honour the survivors by living, by remembering, by telling and re telling their stories.

We approach the famous gates to Birkenau. The kids gravitate to the tracks, lighting candles, saying a prayer. They touch the barbed wire and stare out at the enormous extermination camp. It is difficult to move the kids forward. They are in a trance, moving in slow motion.

The ceremony is long and the kids are eager to learn, to ask their questions. The ceremony ends in the most powerful way. The last 6 letters if a Torah scroll are completed completed with the help of 6 survivors, each holding the hand of the scribe. A Torah scroll completed in this place - the largest  grave sight in the world. An act if defiance, an act if victory, an act if Jewish pride. The El Maleh Rachamim is recited followed by Kadish and Hatikvah. The children have witnessed something significant and they recognize it. Together with Ronen, we trace the steps of one transport if Hungarian Jews from their arrival to their death - 1 hour. The kids have no more questions. They are too emotional to question, to reflective to talk, too distraught to continue. But continue we do. We gather in one of the wooden barracks to hear Ernest's testimony. His story is horrific. How does he have the strength and courage to speak from inside the barrack in which he and his brother lived? He has suffered too much. How can we ask him to relive the darkest years if his life? "It is my duty," he says. Next, Teddy recounts his story. The kids can't take much more but they hang on his every word. We leave Birkenau unable to process the day.

The drive back to the hotel was strange. The kids are spent, need a release. They are resilient. Slowly they return to their normal chatter knowing that nothing is quite the same.

Right before debrief session at the hotel, Rena makes her way from group to group distributing cookies she baked at home and brought to Poland. "After today, the kids need a taste if home," she says. Unbelievable. The kids gobble up the chocolate chip cookies with smiles and tears. Tonight they asked to have the debrief session. It was their idea.

Monica Mendel Bensoussan

MOL - Krakow

Krakow:

Wake up 5:15. We board the bus and begin the 4 hour drive from Warsaw to Krakow.

Physical Evidence. In contrast to Warsaw where we could not see any evidence of a thriving pre war Jewish Community, Krakow is full of physical proof. We walk the streets of Krakow and visit numerous majestic synagogues and cemeteries full of the graves of famous rabbis. Rabbi Poupko tells us wonderful almost fantastical legends if rabbis who lived and studied right here. At the grave sight of the rabbi who wrote the prayer for the sick which we say each day, Rabbi Poupko recites the misheberach and asks the kids to shout out the names of sick people in our lives who we wish to bless. Daniel Ruben's name was mentioned so many times. We dance and sing in the synagogue of great rabbis. The city is full if our rich Jewish heritage - culture, spirituality, intellect...

We trace the footsteps of the Jewish community from the Jewish quarter to the ghetto across the river - the place where Jews were relocated. There we sit on the ground in a semi circle at the foot of Rena's home in the Ghetto. She bravely recounts her story to the awestruck students who sit in stunned silence as she speaks of the day her family along with the Jews from her community were rounded up for transport to Plaszow. She speaks of the love and protective instinct a mother has for her children. We cry. How does she have the strength and courage to do this? "It is my duty to tell you my story," she says. We honour her my remembering her story and committing to re tell it.

Next we head to Plaszow to hear the continuation if Rena's story. Standing at the top of the pit where 6000 Jews were murdered and buried in a mass grave, Rena explains her job in the camp. She was charged with uncovering the bodies of the buried Jews and bringing the bodies to be burned, she asks the families whose loved one's she uncovered to forgive her. The kids are sobbing. I am sobbing. She should not be here. She should not have to relive her nightmare in this very place. The children rush to embrace her, to be near her. Their love supports her, gives her strength. Students break off into small groups to seek comfort from friends, chaperones and other survivors. They wander the holy ground while locals walk their dogs, lounge on the grass and stroll along the paths. Sickening. Don't they realize where they are, what happened here. The students are upset, angry, full of questions. We will try to tackle their emotions during debrief tonight. I don't know what to tell them, how to comfort them, how to make sense of this.

Yom HaShoah Ceremony:

In yet another Krakow synagogue even more beautiful than the others we visited earlier, the entire Montreal Delegation gathers. Each of our 6 survivors lights a candle in honour if the 6 million who perished. They each dedicate their candle to the memory if a list family member. Again we hear heart wrenching testimony. How much more can they take? Most speak about their mothers. We sing, we cry. Ernest says Kadish for the 5th time in 4 days.

Rabbi Poupko apologizes to all the survivors for the pain we are inflicting upon them by having them relive and retell their ordeals. While we recognize the need to have them with us and are humbled by their courage and strength, we are causing them pain.

I am dreading the debrief session tonight... Tomorrow is the March. The kids are nervous. They don't know what to expect!

A thought

I pray that the kids realize how blessed they are, how privileged they are to be traveling in Poland with the survivors hearing first hand testimony. When they are parents and their children come home from school with stories about the Holocaust, they will proudly be able to say "I was in Krakow with Rena, I was in Plashow with Rena, I heard Ernest's story in Burkenau inside the barrack he lived in, I saw Oscar Schindler's factory, I was in Treblinka with Sidney."

The only thing they asked if me was to retell their story.

Monica Mendel Bensoussan

Havdallah Ceremony - National Delegation

After Shabbat, the Montreal delegation has a beautiful Havdallah ceremony in the lobby of the hotel. We sing  and dance arm in arm. The lobby is full of warmth, Jewish pride and joy - a stark contrast to the day's story and the rain outside.

We then leave to the national Havdallah ceremony and join the Toronto delegation, the young adult delegation, the adult delegation and the coast to coast delegation. We are over 1000 strong. We honour all the survivors among us as well as the righteous Gentiles. We are exhausted but filled with Jewish pride and hope for the future of the Jewish people.

MOL Shabbat

Shabbat Services - Warsaw:

Finally it is a gloomy day! It is almost a relief to see the dark skies and pouring rain.

Some of us head out on foot to daven at the Nojyk Synagogue while others stay back at the hotel to study text with Rabbi Poupko. I choose to walk to the orthodox synagogue together with 40 students, 5 madrichim, Ronen, Ella and Ernest and 2 polish security guards. When will I ever be able to pray in a 110 year old polish synagogue?

The kids are eager to see the synagogue. Is it authentic? Why didn't the Nazis destroy it? How did it survive? As we walk Ronen gives us the history of the shul, telling us that it survived only because the Germans used the synagogue as a warehouse. Today the synagogue serves less than 100 Jewish families of Warsaw.

We arrive to find a packed sanctuary filled with music, prayer and youth - the way a synagogue should be. Both the main floor and the second floor women's section are filled with MOL participants from Toronto, LA, Florida, Argentina, Panama and now Montreal. The melody of the prayers are familiar - a universal language uniting Jews around the world. We join in immediately.

The shul is beautiful - stained glass windows, an ornate Aron Kodesh, a raised carved wooden bima, and several chandeliers. We join the service with pride, joy and purpose. It is the first time I understand what it means to pray with kavanah. Our collective voices are loud, powerful lifting us to a new level. I feel a connection to my delegation, my fellow marchers from around the world, my people...this place.

Walking Tour:

The rain has intensified. After lunch we head out in the rain on a walking tour of Warsaw. Bus one piles out of the hotel with Ronen. He starts at the corner of the street by announcing that we are currently standing within the perimeter of the former Warsaw ghetto. The kids are shocked a even a little disappointed. They expected to see some physical evidence of the famous ghetto they have heard and read about - the ghetto wall, a war torn city, train tracks. Instead they find a fairly modern city. We could be in any city on earth. The kids bombard Ronen with questions. He just smiles and asks them to continue walking.

Our first stop is a brand new state of the art museum highlighting the 1000 year history of the Jews in Poland. More questions...these kids are so perceptive, so intelligent, so honest. They want to know who the museum was built for, who visits this place? There are barely any Jews left here. The museum program director explains that the museum conducts tours for school age children everyday. The kids don't appear convinced. Later at night when we debrief with the kids about the days events, many of the kids express anger about our museum visit. Not sure what to do. I'm conflicted. Have to behave like an adult. How do I listen to their angry remarks and put them into perspective when I myself share their anger. One bright young man dares to say exactly what I am thinking... "That museum was built by  the Poles to clear their conscience. It was built out of guilt."

As we walk the streets of the former ghetto, the kids search for physical signs. Ronen tried to explain the hardships of the ghetto - crowding, starvation, sickness...death. We listen to stories but don't grasp the meaning of the words. He continues with numbers, percentages, statistics. The kids eyes' glaze over. We can't understand the numbers. They are shocking. They don't make sense. We enter the lobby of an office building to seek cover from the rain. Ronen asks us all to imagine our own homes. "What room or space in your house represents 3% of the size of your house?" Several yell out, "the bathroom." Ronen continues. "Now imagine that your whole family - parents, siblings and grandparents - lived in that space for months and often years. Silence. We begin to understand crowding. We continue walking. Standing in the rain, we stop again. More numbers...calories. Ronen asks the kids how many calories are in the protein/ snack bars he sees us munching on. 200 to 300 calories. Jews were given 150 calories a day of food - one slice of bread and margarine. It is not possible to survive on 150 calories a day for weeks, months, years. Silence. We begin to imagine hunger...

Next stop the umshlugplatz of Warsaw. The stain station from which Jews from the Warsaw ghetto were sent to their death at Treblinka. Jews often waited at the station for days before boarding cattle cars to Treblinka. Ronen a asks why would the Jews have to wait so long. The kids are so attentive, so smart... They remember the previous day. The tiny death facility of Treblinka could only murder about 600 Jews an hour but it took longer for the bodies to burn. Jews arriving from various cities in Poland had to wait their turn at the umshlugplatz of their city. Sick! Shock! Disgust! We see the tracks, used today for the streetcars.

As we walk down the path of heroes, we debate the qualities of a hero. What makes a hero? Who decides? Next we talk about resistance. The kids see resistance as armed resistance - the resistance of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising. We learn about other forms of resistance including spiritual resistance. As we pass the stone of Janusz Korzack, Ronen describes another hero, another form of resistance. We are soaked to the bone, cold and tired. We've been walking for over 3 hours. We join the other buses along with Rabbi Poupko at the Mila 18 memorial sight. Rabbi Poupko tells the story of Mordechai Anilevich and the Warsaw uprising. The kids know the story but they don't know the significance. The Rabbi empowers the kids and explains that at every juncture in Jewish history, it is people your age that determined the future of the Jewish people. I don't think the kids ever realized that many of the heroes of the Warsaw uprising and other resistance movements were people their age. The Rabbi asks them to take up the charge of the Jewish people because each if them has tremendous potential and power to advance our people and determine the history of the Jewish people. (Later that night during our debrief I asked the kids what the highlight of their day was. Many referred to Rabbi Poupko's speech. I think they felt empowered, like they discovered the potential of their voice.

On our way back to the hotel, Ronen satisfies their quest for physical evidence of a Jewish community in Warsaw, of the ghetto, of Jewish life. In the pouring rain, we walk through a non-descript door to a courtyard surrounded by old decrepit buildings. The kids are surprised to learn that the buildings are authentic Jewish homes from inside the  Warsaw Ghetto. Ronen explains that these buildings will soon suffer the same fate that most of the ghetto suffered. They will be demolished. The kids ask why the buildings are not protected as historical sights. They are angry!

What an afternoon! Not a single complaint about the weather, the cold, the walking. Undecided attention and brilliant questions. I am so proud of my kids!

Monica Mendel Bensoussan

Day 4 - Shabbat in Warsaw & a (wet) walking tour! Adam Weinstock

Today we slept in, by MOL standards at least. 7:30 wake up, the kids loved it!

Kids had the choice of either attending a shul service this morning or a study session with the Rabbi. I opted to go to shul, not every day I get a chance to go to synagogue in Warsaw on Shabbat.

It was raining outside, very lightly, but a group of about 40 of us (students, madrichim and survivors) walked the 10-15 minutes to the Nozyk Synagogue.

This is the sole surviving synagogue in Warsaw that was operating pre-WW2. It opened its doors in 1902 and only survived the was because the Nazis used it as a stable / storage house. The shul was restored and reopened in the early 1980s and is still operating to this day.

From the outside the original building is very unassuming but inside it is home to a beautiful sanctuary.

When we walked in as a group we made our way to the back and took seats and joined in the prayers. The shul was filled to capacity. Canadians, Americans and other MOL delegations joined with local Poles in prayer.  It took a minute or two but I realized that, although a world away from home and in a place filled with so many strangers, we were all speaking the same language and singing the same songs! It was a beautiful feeling to be part of that service.

When we got back to the hotel we had a bit of time before lunch but that passed quickly, as almost everything does these days!

We ate and then set out for a walking tour of Warsaw, in the rain!

Our first stop was the Museum of the History of Polish Jews. The museum itself is an architectural gem. Unfortunately the main Exhibit won't be open until October 2014. We watched a 20-25 minute video that walked us through the exhibit.

The museum sits in the heart of what once was the Warsaw Ghetto, right across from the famous Ghetto Heroes Monument. The monument was meant to show the struggles of life in the Ghetto while the museum aims to show life before, during and after the war. They want to bridge the gap between past, present and future.

After the museum we set out into the rain once again to tour several sites around the city. We saw monuments for the likes of Janusz Korczak and the famous Mila 18 bunker which housed the headquarters of the Jewish resistance in the ghetto.

As we walked through the ghetto I saw stones commemorating where Ghetto walls once stood. I always tried to point those out to the kids so they could see and get a feeling of the size of the ghetto to better understand how small an area it was.

We ended the tour by visiting the last buildings that still stand from the original ghetto. 98% of Warsaw was destroyed by the end of the war but, amazingly, 2 and 1/2 buildings remain of the old Ghetto. Today there is a shop downstairs and apartments upstairs. One building still lies in ruins, a shell of the former beauty that lived inside before the war. Across the street was part of the original Ghetto wall that still stood. It was built into a new building, while I was happy they kept the original wall I would rather it not have been an architectural enhancement to the building that was there.

We're back at the hotel now, soaked not only from the 3+ hours of walking in the rain but with knowledge of Jewish life in Warsaw. Today we mainly focused on the Ghetto and the uprising and it all speaks volumes of how our people lived under unimaginable conditions!

Tonight, after dinner and Havdallah, we are off to the International March of the Living ceremony. Tomorrow we depart for Krakow!

Adam Weinstock

MOL Before Shabbat

Memory is an end unto itself. Memory is sacred work. We remember for the sale of remembering. The greatest gift we can give the survivors is memory. Their greatest fear is that no one will tell their stories.

Rabbi Poupko leads a debriefing session after our difficult day. The students are eager to share their reflections, attempt articulating their emotions and ask questions. They are so smart, so respectful, so insightful. I have learned so much from them. The students listen to each other with such respect. Rabbi Poupko does not answer questions but rather stresses the point that we do not participate in the March of the Living in order to find answers. We participate in order to ask better questions.

The madrichim are scheduled to debrief together without the kids after Shabbat dinner. I cannot imagine putting into words any of my thoughts or emotions. I wonder if my fellow chaperones are experiencing the same turmoil that I feel.

Monica Mendel Bensoussan

MOL - Day 3 from Monica Mendel Bensoussan

Another beautiful day in Warsaw - the sin is shining, the sky is blue and the air is unseasonably warm. We are on our way to Tykochin, a true shtetl over 400 years old. Our guide reminds us that it is not possible to begin to understand the holocaust without understanding the vibrancy of Jewish life  prior to the war. One cannot understand human loss, cultural loss, intellectual loss, spiritual loss without appreciating the richness of polish Jewish culture, intellect, spirituality and religion. It is hard to imagine Poland as the venter of Jewish life. With over 3.5 million Jews in Poland, it represented the largest Jewish community in the world.

Tykochin:

Simple wooden houses surrounding the majestic synagogue of Tykochin - that describes the people of the shtetl. They lived, worked, celebrated and died in this village for over 500 years. Their lives centred around their beloved synagogue. The village is best known for its tallitot. A tallitot made in Tykochin was a treasure!
The synagogue is magnificent - ornate, bright, happy! The walls are decorated with inscription from the Torah. The bima stands proudly in the centre of the room. The Montreal delegation, at Rabbi Poupko's suggestion, fills the room with music. "Let's restore this synagogue to its former glory," he says as we all begin to sing Am Yisrael Chai. As the singing gets louder (primarily because of the spirit of the Herz kids), circles begin to form. We dance the hora with purpose, with meaning, with joy. We use the room as it should be used - as it once was used. I can actually imagine the inhabitants of this village living peacefully with their Polish neighbours, working together, sharing their lives. A synagogue on one end of the town square and a church on the other end.

On the 24th of August, 1941 everything changed. The Jews of Tykochin were told to be at the town square at 6am with no more than 10 kilos of belongings each. 2000 Jews were loaded onto trucks and driven away to....

Lopuchowa Forest:

We drive in complete silence for 10 minutes straight into the most beautiful forest. I don't think I've ever seen such tall, slender trees. They stand straight close to one another creating a canopy of foliage. Ella and Ernest, arm in arm, slowly and purposefully lead us through the forest. I can't even imagine what Ella and Ernest must be thinking. They are so strong, so brave, so committed to all these children. We follow our survivors down the winding path through the forest with dread, with fear, with deep sadness. The kids don't know what to expect but somehow we all know that the joyful story of the rich lives of the Tykochin community which we heard moments ago, did not end well. We arrive at a tiny opening in the forest still covered by the foliage of the tall trees. The clearing is covered with yizkor candles, Magen David's made from branches, Israeli flags. Ronen asks me to read the story of Rivka Yosselevcka out loud to the students. I can't bear to look at Ella and Ernest. I am unprepared and nervous as I begin reading. Rivka recounts the heart wrenching story of the murder of the Jews of Tykochin in this forest at this spot - the murder if her husband, her children, her parents, her extended family. As I read the gruesome details The tears roll down my cheeks and my voice cracks. Ella cries. Her sniffling breaks my heart. She shouldn't be here but she insists on being here.

I read Rivka's story...she describes the Jews being ordered to undress. Those who refused, including her father, were shot where they stood. The naked men, women and children climb the tiny hill 10 at a time. At the top, they stand in a line - mothers holding babies, young, elderly...and are shot. The bodies fall down the other side of the hill into the waiting pit. As a child, she describes the curiosity of her children who want to know what lies on the other side of the hill. Bloodied bodies on top of bodies, some dead, some dying, some suffering, some suffocating beneath the weight of the dead. I continue reading. Ella cries softly surrounded by the students who hold her hands, hug her, support her. Rivka describes her own death...it is her turn to climb the hill. She is shot. She feels no pain. Is this what death feels like? Hours go by...she cannot breathe. She can't be dead if she feels that she is suffocating. Death would be far better. She hears the crying of a baby. She fights her way to the top (through I cannot fathom what) to reach the baby. It is her own baby. The others are gone but this one cries. She surfaces with her child. She is alive because of her child. I am sobbing. The students surround me. They should be with Ella and Ernest, not me. I continue reading Rivka's story. She describes her guilt, her anguish at surviving. "Why did I live?" She asks. 

Bus one joins the other buses at the centre of the memorial spot. Rabbi Poupko talks about the beautiful Tikochin community. The Rabbi reminds us all that each person murdered in this forest had a name, a family, a life. We join hands and sing Ani Maamin. Ernest quietly walks to the front of the Montreal group and recites Kadish, a few students light candles. We are profoundly moved. Why is the sun still shining? Why is the forest so alive with growth and beauty? We board the bus once again in silence.

Treblinka:

We were not in Treblinka. We were in the place were Treblinka was. We did not bare witness to the horrors of the Holocaust. Only survivors can say that they were witnesses. We are students.

Treblinka was a death facility whose purpose was to murder the Jews of Poland. The facility had no other purpose.   The facility measured a mere 600 x 400 meters. 874 thousand Jews were murdered here. Ronen asks the group, " how many Germans did it take to operate this death facility - to murder close to one million Jews?" The answer shocks us. The students audibly gasp. 25 Germans worked at Treblinka aided by 100 Ukranians. Jews arriving from towns and villages from across Poland spent less than 1 hour at Treblinka. So many questions, so many emotions. Ronen answers each and every question encouraging the students to express themselves.

Nothing remains here other than stones representing the villages from where Jews arrived, a monument located at the sight of of the gas chamber and cement blocks along the path of the train tracks hidden among the trees. Ronen tries to explain what it was like to travel by cattle car for hours or days to Treblinka. The students read testimonies out loud but it is incomprehensible, unimaginable.

The sun is still shining and the sky is bright blue. The entire Montreal delegation gathers among the stones chiseled with various village names. Rabbi Poupko talks to us about the beauty of nature. We should expect a beautiful world created by God. Evil comes from man and stands in stark contrast to the magnificence created by God. The most remarkable part of the Holocaust that defies all logic is not the depths of human evil but rather the courage and resilience of holocaust survivors. Holocaust survivors epitomize hope. After living through human evil in its purest and most severe form, they went on to build beautiful families. The Rabbi urges us not to lose hope. He asks Sidney (Zoltak) to tells the students what he thinks of when he comes to Treblinka. Sidney tells the students that Treblinka is the memorial sight of his village. Through tears he tells us that he is the sole survivor of his elementary school class. Not one of his classmates survived. The students listen in silence, some begin to cry, others hold hand. Everyone takes a step closer to Sidney. Sidney tells us that he thinks of class reunions at Treblinka. He cannot have a class reunion, like most people, in any other place so he comes to Treblinka to have his reunions. We are all crying as Sidney struggles to give his testimony.
Sidney, Teddy, Tom, Rena, Ella and Ernest say Kadish surrounded and supported by students who are in awe of their courage, strength and spirit.

We walk slowly back to the bus to head back to Warsaw to spend Shabbat as a strong, unified Montreal Jewish community. The kids are incredible.

The sun is still bright and the sky is still blue. I keep on thinking that this place should be black and white.

Reflections on Day 2 on the March of the Living - from Monica Mendel Bensoussan

Toronto -Warsaw flight:

I don't ever recall feeling this way - a combination of excitement and anxiety. I shouldn't feel the excitement of going on a trip to a far away destination nor should I feel the anticipation of going on vacation. What we are doing is important, significant, meaningful, perhaps life changing. Yet I do feel excitement. Perhaps it is the excitement of the unknown or the youthful spirit of the students. I have no idea what to expect. I feel anxious and unprepared despite my months of preparation and years of holocaust education. I only hope that I will be able to support the students on their journey as I too navigate my own. The students are so bright, so compassionate and so eager to learn.

They inspire me.

Rabbi Poupko leads dav ending at the back of the plane. Sidney, Ernest and Teddy are by his side. I can hear the familiar chanting and my heart fills with warmth and anticipation. One more hour before the journey truly begins. Some of the students are nervous while others seem oblivious to what awaits. Me too...

Bus ride from Warsaw airport to Lodz cemetery:

Spring has arrived much earlier here in Poland. The air is warm, the sky is blue, the grass is green and the trees are all blossoming - happy weather. Somehow the beautiful weather does not feel fitting for our journey in Poland.

We meet our Israeli educator, Ronen, and our Polish guide, Arthur. Ronen speaks about a "successful trip" explaining that the success of our journey is dependent upon each and every one of us. There is no right or wrong way to react and no judgements to be made. Each person must undergo a personal journey, an individual journey, a successful journey.

Lodz Cemetary:

Rabbi Poupko refers to Lodz Cemetary as a happy Cemetary - Jews from Lodz, one of the largest Jewish communities in Poland, lived full and active lives. They were productive, creative, intellectual, spiritual and cultural. They were buried in the Lodz Cemetary with elaborate tomb stones and monuments. There are no mass graves or nameless graves. This Cemetary celebrates the vibrancy of the Jewish community.

The Cemetery is sad and lonely because it is not maintained. The graves are not cared for nor are they visited. Occasionally you can spot flowers or rocks on a tomb stone. There are no Jews left in Lodz to pay their respects to loved ones.

The kids are amazing.

They soak up the stories Rabbi Poupko tells and the testimonies our survivors recount. They ask questions and they listened so attentively. I have a feeling we will all be learning much from our students. They already understand the significance of the first steps of their journey.

Lodz ghetto:

We all walk the 10 minute walk from the ghetto walls to the train station in silence. We pile into the cattle car again in complete silence. This was the last place the Jews of Lodz saw before being sent to their death at Chelmno or Auschwitz. No words are necessary. The silence was unbearably loud.

Off to the hotel in Warsaw after a long and meaningful 2 days.

Monica Mendel Bensoussan