From Zhvanets to Prague - Part Two
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I felt like I was in a Tolstoy novel.
We first walked by the Polish section of the cemetery where Nick
pointed out his father’s gravesite. Photos of the deceased are put on
the stones. We walked into the woods to see the Jewish cemetery *. I
felt quite emotional. The stones that I saw were tilted, leaning towards
the ground, but did not appear to be broken. I scraped many layers of
moss off one of the stones and had I had the time to clean it up, the
writing would have been legible. It is in a heavily wooded area. There
had been a recent rainfall and my brand new Nike running shoes were
covered in mud. The first time in my life I actually dirtied a pair of
running shoes!
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We stopped at different points
around the village and met some of Petro’s former students.
One was an eight-three year old lady who remembered lighting
candles on the Sabbath for a Jewish family. A broad smile
revealed her one remaining shiny, gold tooth, Another elderly
student proudly said that she spoke English, but we were not
really able to converse. |
| Petro Bratvanovych
and Svitlana Kovalyk |
We returned to city hall, where Anna surprised me with
a beautiful bouquet of large, burgundy peonies and irises from her
garden. She invited me to come and stay with her. They were very kind
and probably both fascinated and a little perplexed that a North
American would have such an interest in their village.
There is no indoor plumbing in the village as is the
case in most small towns and villages throughout rural Ukraine. The only
difference between the outhouse for the city hall and others that I saw
was that it was made of brick and was a doorless two-seater.
The village had telephones, but not one computer. Out
of a total population of 1650 people, eighty-five women from the village
live and work in Italy to send home money to supplement their family’s
income. Very much like the Philippine community. The average annual
income for a doctor or a teacher in the Ukraine is approximately six
hundred US dollars a year. The mayor earns 273 UAH** a month. There is
no work in the village.
Svitlana took some photos of the Mayor and I and he
and Anna walked me to the car and waved goodbye. Petro kissed my hand
with old world gallantry. It was in order for me to offer him something
for his tour, which I did. At first he did not want to take anything,
but I asked Svitlana to tell him that it had been an honour for me to
meet someone who had been one of the many liberators of Auschwitz. He
smiled with great pride when she translated this for me.
The next morning I decided to return to Zhvanets to
have a quiet, more reflective look at the shtetl. What good luck. It was
market day and we arrived at the square just in time to see that over a
period of a hundred years nothing had changed. People were selling and
people were buying. When you look at the photos, just imagine you’re
seeing horse drawn carts instead of cars. There was a hatchback station
wagon with the back open displaying a pile of freshly baked breads and
round loaves that looked like challahs. Many people were selling shoes
which of course interested me. They were displayed on blankets on the
ground and on the hoods of cars. My Bube Rifka had gone to
Kamianets-Podilskyi to have her wedding shoes repaired.
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I can see in my mind’s eye what the village
square would have been like in the 1800’s. I can hear the
haggling over a loaf of bread or a piece of fish for Shabbat. I
am thrilled that even with not a little trepidation I decided to
embark on my small journey. It was small in terms of distance
and time but will loom forever large in my memory. I had the
privilege and opportunity to briefly glimpse the life that my
Great Grandfather, great Uncles and Aunts and my Bube and Zade
lived. |
I saw for myself part of the landscape that made up the Pale of
Settlement where almost five million Jews once lived.
I bless my family for their courage. Courage beyond anything I can
comprehend in leaving a small dot on a map in the Ukraine to journey
across the ocean. They had no money and no knowledge of the English
language. They were no longer able to endure the hardships, the poverty
and the pogroms. They endured conditions on the ships that we can’t
even imagine. And so they arrived.
What a forever special trip it was for me. It gave me a sense of
continuity and identity and fills me with great emotion.
Zhvanets in Ukrainian means bell. Perhaps the sound of the tolling
bell of the Zhvanets from which we came can still be heard and felt
today just a little in all 560 descendents of Hanech Shapiro who are
currently named in our family tree.
Had they not left, I would not be here to tell their
story.
APPENDIX
* Lviv had the following names: Lwow, Poland (13th Century to
1772); Lemberg, Austria (1772-1918); Lwow, Poland (1918-1939); Lviv,
Ukraine (1939-to present). Lwow is pronounced Lvov or Lvuv
* LOT, which means flight in Polish, is the name of the Polish
Airline
* Kamianets-Podilskyi , the Ukrainian spelling, is a district
capital and can be found on all maps dating back to the thirteenth
century. Spellings changed according to the governing countries
language.
* Cemetery - Currently plans are underway for ‘Zhvanetsers’ to
restore and maintain the cemetery that contains about 1200 stones. I
am certain that some of our relatives rest there.
* The currency is called hrynya (h-ren-ya) and is written
UAH. 1 US dollar is equal to 5.33 UAH (Feb 2007).
Photos of market place and synagogue courtesy of Dr. Rand Fishbein, a
fellow Zhvanetser.
Reference: Kaminits-Podolsk & Its Environs /Bonnie Schooler
Sohn/Avotaynu Foundation Inc.
Layout Design by Shelley Freedman
Map of Ukraine
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