Belarus: A Visit to the Ancestors
June 28, 2014: Brest, belarus: Just getting there
June 28, 2014, was largely consumed with taking 3 buses to get to the Central Station in Warsaw, and finally caving into a taxi for the last leg of the trip to the Warsaw West Bus Station. AlteCocker discovered that the cab she had the first day in Warsaw was what they call a “Mafia taxi”—which is why she was overcharged. This time, knowing better what she was doing, she got a regular cab with reasonable prices.
She ate breakfast/lunch in a nice café by the Central Station before taking the cab. She had a sandwich and a muffin with some sort of berries in it and a “flat white”—coffee with milk without all the foam. Warsaw now has the assortment of foods available in the West. No reason to think you can't find anything you'll miss--except maybe peanut butter.
The West bus station has been around since the year one and is very tired. Someone told AlteCocker that the same buses had been posted at the same time for years on the board. There are fortunately other places to look for bus information that are more accurate rather than the old "historic" board. She had a lot of time to wait, but given the fact that a transit day in a foreign country where you do not speak the language is stressful, AlteCocker was glad to be on site. Time was whiled away attempting to speak to a Belorussian woman in pigeon Russian (AlteCocker studied Russian in high school but what she remembers is limited—maybe a thimbleful), visiting the toilets (2 zlotys) and eating an unneeded mint Magnum.
The bus left on time and was half empty. Apparently AlteCocker did her bus ticket correctly on the Polish only website back in the US (thank you google translate) because everyone’s ticket looked like hers and she was allowed on the bus. You never know when you do something like this..
AlteCocker spent the bus ride reading, sleeping and reviewing Pimsleur Turkish—which she will need in Istanbul. A stop was made for toilets and smoking (from the looks of it, mostly for smoking) about 1½ hours in to the bus ride. There is no airport in Brest, Belarus, and the bus is much more efficient than the train. Either flying or the train requires that you first go to Minsk. If you take the train, moreover, things get delayed by the need to change the wheels because the track in Belarus is a different gauge than that in Western Europe. You might have remembered reading about that when you discussed World War I in history class. Still true.
Belarus is a country closely allied with Russia and has never moved out of Soviet times. Those of you who traveled to Russia before glasnost will remember the lovely Intourist Hotels with their peeling paint, tired interiors, etc. AlteCocker is staying at the Brest Intourist Hotel. Same thing—and antique internet which simply does not connect. To get online, AlteCocker had to go to someone's house.
So we get to the border. Belarus requires that you purchase their health insurance for the duration of your stay if you do not otherwise have health insurance. AlteCocker showed them her Travel Guard Insurance card, but she thinks they had never seen one before. The woman that took her dollars (of course they take dollars), told her that she had never clocked in another American. There were no others on the bus but one Brit. AlteCocker had to purchase Belorussian medical insurance before they would stamp her passport. You don’t argue about such things. She paid $4 for it for 6 days. A nice Belorussian woman who works in Poland and speaks perfect English helped her out. The border guard took a look at my magic piece of paper (signed in triplicate) and told me to return to the bus. Interestingly the Belorussian woman was told to wait for all the passports. Crazy. She got to cart them back to the bus and pass them out. AlteCocker thought that was the border guard’s job. Passport was stamped and AlteCocker has another country to add to her belt. Sometimes foolishness has to be endured if you want to visit a place.
So we get to the bus station after about an hour on the boarder dealing with border guards with various sorts of hats gathering passports, checking for visas, and giving everyone souvenir stamps. OK, there were 3 taxis waiting. One driver took AlteCocker’s bags and she went over to the ATM to try to get money. Let me say this: Belorussian rubles have more zeros than the old Italian lira. They have so many that some are simply dropped off the money. One dollar is worth over 10,000 Belorussian rubles. ATMs give out both local currency and rubles. In fact, inflation is so bad that Belorussians immediately change their rubles into dollars. Their currency obviously has problems. AlteCocker really has no idea how much money she got in dollars from the ATM, but she was able to pay the taxi driver to take her to the hotel—and that was the important thing. Another adventure.
You have to laugh at all of this. Ah, the things we go through to visit places. Tomorrow the good stuff begins. Today was foolishness. No doubt there will be more guys with interesting hats in the airport in Minsk when AlteCocker flies to Istanbul in 6 days. Can’t wait. Unfortunately, she did not get a photo of the hats; perhaps at the airport. The Belorussian ones had especially nice huge brims that turned up. You’ve seen similar ones on those goose stepping Russian soldiers.
“Dinner”, such as it was, as a so called “Greek” salad with bottled water and a piece of dry cake. AlteCocker did not expect much more. The hotel has a casino and, shall we say, some “working girls” in very tall shoes around in the evening. Mind you, AlteCocker is in what is supposed to be one of the best hotels in Brest.
After dinner, AlteCocker purchased a card for the supposed internet. As expected, it did not work. A card to connect you to an internet service does not work if the service itself is nonworking. After several trips to the desk with the problem, AlteCocker finally got her money back. If Belarus wants to attract tourists, it simply must have working internet—and real Greek salads. It is an authoritarian government here but one would bet there is working internet in government offices or where the big brimmed border guards work.
She ate breakfast/lunch in a nice café by the Central Station before taking the cab. She had a sandwich and a muffin with some sort of berries in it and a “flat white”—coffee with milk without all the foam. Warsaw now has the assortment of foods available in the West. No reason to think you can't find anything you'll miss--except maybe peanut butter.
The West bus station has been around since the year one and is very tired. Someone told AlteCocker that the same buses had been posted at the same time for years on the board. There are fortunately other places to look for bus information that are more accurate rather than the old "historic" board. She had a lot of time to wait, but given the fact that a transit day in a foreign country where you do not speak the language is stressful, AlteCocker was glad to be on site. Time was whiled away attempting to speak to a Belorussian woman in pigeon Russian (AlteCocker studied Russian in high school but what she remembers is limited—maybe a thimbleful), visiting the toilets (2 zlotys) and eating an unneeded mint Magnum.
The bus left on time and was half empty. Apparently AlteCocker did her bus ticket correctly on the Polish only website back in the US (thank you google translate) because everyone’s ticket looked like hers and she was allowed on the bus. You never know when you do something like this..
AlteCocker spent the bus ride reading, sleeping and reviewing Pimsleur Turkish—which she will need in Istanbul. A stop was made for toilets and smoking (from the looks of it, mostly for smoking) about 1½ hours in to the bus ride. There is no airport in Brest, Belarus, and the bus is much more efficient than the train. Either flying or the train requires that you first go to Minsk. If you take the train, moreover, things get delayed by the need to change the wheels because the track in Belarus is a different gauge than that in Western Europe. You might have remembered reading about that when you discussed World War I in history class. Still true.
Belarus is a country closely allied with Russia and has never moved out of Soviet times. Those of you who traveled to Russia before glasnost will remember the lovely Intourist Hotels with their peeling paint, tired interiors, etc. AlteCocker is staying at the Brest Intourist Hotel. Same thing—and antique internet which simply does not connect. To get online, AlteCocker had to go to someone's house.
So we get to the border. Belarus requires that you purchase their health insurance for the duration of your stay if you do not otherwise have health insurance. AlteCocker showed them her Travel Guard Insurance card, but she thinks they had never seen one before. The woman that took her dollars (of course they take dollars), told her that she had never clocked in another American. There were no others on the bus but one Brit. AlteCocker had to purchase Belorussian medical insurance before they would stamp her passport. You don’t argue about such things. She paid $4 for it for 6 days. A nice Belorussian woman who works in Poland and speaks perfect English helped her out. The border guard took a look at my magic piece of paper (signed in triplicate) and told me to return to the bus. Interestingly the Belorussian woman was told to wait for all the passports. Crazy. She got to cart them back to the bus and pass them out. AlteCocker thought that was the border guard’s job. Passport was stamped and AlteCocker has another country to add to her belt. Sometimes foolishness has to be endured if you want to visit a place.
So we get to the bus station after about an hour on the boarder dealing with border guards with various sorts of hats gathering passports, checking for visas, and giving everyone souvenir stamps. OK, there were 3 taxis waiting. One driver took AlteCocker’s bags and she went over to the ATM to try to get money. Let me say this: Belorussian rubles have more zeros than the old Italian lira. They have so many that some are simply dropped off the money. One dollar is worth over 10,000 Belorussian rubles. ATMs give out both local currency and rubles. In fact, inflation is so bad that Belorussians immediately change their rubles into dollars. Their currency obviously has problems. AlteCocker really has no idea how much money she got in dollars from the ATM, but she was able to pay the taxi driver to take her to the hotel—and that was the important thing. Another adventure.
You have to laugh at all of this. Ah, the things we go through to visit places. Tomorrow the good stuff begins. Today was foolishness. No doubt there will be more guys with interesting hats in the airport in Minsk when AlteCocker flies to Istanbul in 6 days. Can’t wait. Unfortunately, she did not get a photo of the hats; perhaps at the airport. The Belorussian ones had especially nice huge brims that turned up. You’ve seen similar ones on those goose stepping Russian soldiers.
“Dinner”, such as it was, as a so called “Greek” salad with bottled water and a piece of dry cake. AlteCocker did not expect much more. The hotel has a casino and, shall we say, some “working girls” in very tall shoes around in the evening. Mind you, AlteCocker is in what is supposed to be one of the best hotels in Brest.
After dinner, AlteCocker purchased a card for the supposed internet. As expected, it did not work. A card to connect you to an internet service does not work if the service itself is nonworking. After several trips to the desk with the problem, AlteCocker finally got her money back. If Belarus wants to attract tourists, it simply must have working internet—and real Greek salads. It is an authoritarian government here but one would bet there is working internet in government offices or where the big brimmed border guards work.
June 29, 2014, Visit to the Ancestors Begins: Kobrin
The guide, Marina, arrived right on time. She's actually an English language professor at the University in Minsk, but lives in Brest with her husband, so she is always commuting between the two cities. We first discussed the agenda for today, which included an area with Jewish burial stones (the bodies may be elsewhere), a small museum, a ruined synagogue and then a walk around the immense Brest Fortress. This was also the day my preconceptions about Belarus began to fall away. Yes, there is an authoritarian government. Yes, the country is somewhat in the pre-glassnost mind set. But, also, yes, the people seem happy, the prices are low and people seem relatively content. Despite the bad food last night, AlteCocker had good food today. What people most want is peace and quiet and the ability to lead quiet lives. You need to understand that Belarus was absolutely ruined in World War II with everyone left feeling like a Holocaust survivor--sometimes the only survivor in their families.
Much of the day was spent in the Kobrin area of SW Belarus. We went first to an area where there were lots of Hebrew language burial stones. Many of them where illegible but there is now a marker for the place, which is very nice--moving even. Then we went to a small museum in Kobrin. By US standards it wasn't much, but we did have a look at a book that had names of people from Kobrin who died in various wars. It was just a quick look at the book and AlteCocker did not find any last names she researches. There was a painting of the old Kobrin synagogue AlteCocker was tempted (prices are low here but it would have been very difficult to get it back) and she passed on the purchase. There is a question of lack of wall space in her house anyway. Then we went to the synagogue. It is a ruin. While AlteCocker's great-great-grandmother may have not worshiped there (she was from a village nearby), she certainly had visited Kobrin and knew the place. How does AlteCocker know? Well, back in the US, AlteCocker has a portrait of her great-great grandmother taken in a photographic studio in Kobrin probably during the first decade of the 20th century. It was enough to just know, after years of genealogical research, she was completing a circle back to her roots.
After the visit to Kobrin, we headed back to Brest and a visit to the amazing Brest Fortress. Sometimes you find places in your travels that truly astonish you. The fortress certainly was one. It is immense and held out for 30 days when Hitler invaded in 1941. The Soviets and their allies fought and died--but they never surrendered. The bits of the old fortress that still stand are pockmarked with bullet holes. It is the most immense war memorial AlteCocker has ever seen--and maybe the largest such in the world. It's a very moving place. Whatever US loses in World War II, the Eastern Bloc countries were virtually wiped out. Belarus still has many less people living there than it did before the War. Can you imagine? Children were all over playing in the ruins and climbing on the inevitable tanks.
Lunch was at the Fortress Cafe. The prices are unbelievable. For $20 all three of us (Marina brought along her husband and AlteCocker gladly paid for lunch for all) what would have cost three times as much in a US restaurant. AlteCocker ordered potato pancakes stuffed with eggs and mushrooms. OK, they arrive. They are: POTATO LATKES! Unbelieveable. AlteCocker has never had potato latkes that way and they were delicious. So much for Belarus cuisine being bad. It's different. It's not necessarily bad--especially if you have a good guide like Marina who knows where to take you. Yes, hiring a private guide and driver is expensive, but it is a good investment when you get a good one.
The internet situation at the hotel continued to be hopeless. So AlteCocker actually went over to Marina's apartment to use her internet. Worked. Who knows? Internet here is a bit behind. So Marina lives in this apartment building that looks terrible from the outside. As soon as you enter her apartment, however, it's another world. Apparently the outsides of buildings can be crummy but the insides can be beautiful--certainly a different way of housing from in the US.
Tomorrow more sites related to the ancestors, but AlteCocker is not going to mess with putting up the blog again until she reaches Minsk. Hopefully the connectivity situation will have improved. Anyway, guys, it's just for a few days. Once AlteCocker gets to Istanbul, there should be no problems.
Much of the day was spent in the Kobrin area of SW Belarus. We went first to an area where there were lots of Hebrew language burial stones. Many of them where illegible but there is now a marker for the place, which is very nice--moving even. Then we went to a small museum in Kobrin. By US standards it wasn't much, but we did have a look at a book that had names of people from Kobrin who died in various wars. It was just a quick look at the book and AlteCocker did not find any last names she researches. There was a painting of the old Kobrin synagogue AlteCocker was tempted (prices are low here but it would have been very difficult to get it back) and she passed on the purchase. There is a question of lack of wall space in her house anyway. Then we went to the synagogue. It is a ruin. While AlteCocker's great-great-grandmother may have not worshiped there (she was from a village nearby), she certainly had visited Kobrin and knew the place. How does AlteCocker know? Well, back in the US, AlteCocker has a portrait of her great-great grandmother taken in a photographic studio in Kobrin probably during the first decade of the 20th century. It was enough to just know, after years of genealogical research, she was completing a circle back to her roots.
After the visit to Kobrin, we headed back to Brest and a visit to the amazing Brest Fortress. Sometimes you find places in your travels that truly astonish you. The fortress certainly was one. It is immense and held out for 30 days when Hitler invaded in 1941. The Soviets and their allies fought and died--but they never surrendered. The bits of the old fortress that still stand are pockmarked with bullet holes. It is the most immense war memorial AlteCocker has ever seen--and maybe the largest such in the world. It's a very moving place. Whatever US loses in World War II, the Eastern Bloc countries were virtually wiped out. Belarus still has many less people living there than it did before the War. Can you imagine? Children were all over playing in the ruins and climbing on the inevitable tanks.
Lunch was at the Fortress Cafe. The prices are unbelievable. For $20 all three of us (Marina brought along her husband and AlteCocker gladly paid for lunch for all) what would have cost three times as much in a US restaurant. AlteCocker ordered potato pancakes stuffed with eggs and mushrooms. OK, they arrive. They are: POTATO LATKES! Unbelieveable. AlteCocker has never had potato latkes that way and they were delicious. So much for Belarus cuisine being bad. It's different. It's not necessarily bad--especially if you have a good guide like Marina who knows where to take you. Yes, hiring a private guide and driver is expensive, but it is a good investment when you get a good one.
The internet situation at the hotel continued to be hopeless. So AlteCocker actually went over to Marina's apartment to use her internet. Worked. Who knows? Internet here is a bit behind. So Marina lives in this apartment building that looks terrible from the outside. As soon as you enter her apartment, however, it's another world. Apparently the outsides of buildings can be crummy but the insides can be beautiful--certainly a different way of housing from in the US.
Tomorrow more sites related to the ancestors, but AlteCocker is not going to mess with putting up the blog again until she reaches Minsk. Hopefully the connectivity situation will have improved. Anyway, guys, it's just for a few days. Once AlteCocker gets to Istanbul, there should be no problems.
June 30, 2014: A Visit to the Ancestors Continues: Drahitchyn, Gorodets, Mefedovichi
Today we visited Drahitchyn, Gorodets and Mefedovici. These are 3 villages which have genealogical connections to my maternal family. Something happened today AlteCocker will never forget.
The morning began with a long drive to Drahitchyn, the largest of the villages. There we met with Sergei, a history teacher who has made the study of the history of his village. He has contributed to some history books and is getting ready to write his own book. He took us on a tour of the town pointing out where the World War II Jewish ghetto was. The Jews were divided into those who could work and those who could not. Those who could not work were killed first. The second group remained for awhile but was eventually wiped out in 1942. It was the same old story with the Nazis extracting as much as they could from Jews before massacring them. We looked at some old houses some of which were there when my Dubin and Cooper family members lived in the town. We also viewed a stone (the only one in the cemetery). There were faint markings on the stone but nothing that could be read. Following Jewish tradition, AlteCocker placed a stone on the stone marker to remind others that she had been there. In fact she has been placing stones on all the gravestones she has found. In all cases, she placed the first stone. No doubt there will be other pilgrims.
After the tour AlteCocker took everyone out to lunch in the best restaurant in the town. The price was similar to yesterday—not much by American standards. The food was good. I had a traditional soup followed by chicken with pineapple inside. After lunch we said “good bye” to Sergei and then went on to Gorodets, the home village for my direct maternal ancestors surnamed Shornick (possibly Chernick) and Pollack. We took a walk to a cemetery and here Altecocher had her moment of the trip. There is only one marker in the cemetery. Nazis often removed Jewish stones to use them for paving. No one knows who is buried in the cemetery but under the one marker on the ground was a list of names of people who had been shot in 1942. Marina helped me read the names. There in the middle of the list was the name of Yankel Pollack and his two sons (sons names not listed). Yankel Pollack? He could have been a relative. Yankel is a variant of Jacob and my family tree contains a Jacob Pollack. Due to the Ashkenazi tradition of naming children for dead family members—and the tiny size of Gorodets—the murdered Yankel was probably a relative, but perhaps AlteCocker will never find out how. It was AlteCocker’s best moment of the trip, as she never expected to find anything directly connected to any of her family names.
Then we drove to the nearby hamlet of Mefedovici. The town name appears on records connected with the Shornicks and specifically on her great great grandmother’s Ellis Island records. It was not even certain this place existed. We found the teeny hamlet and drove its streets. There was nothing to find there and no one to ask. There were maybe 20-30 run down houses.
Then it was back to Gorodets to see if we could find this book with a list of names so AlteCocker could view it for family names. Unfortunately, it could not be located, but arrangements were made with Marina to have them email the list it to her—and she to me.
Then it was back to the hotel. AlteCocker’s plans to walk around the town were tubed by a thunderstorm. The TV in the hotel contains no English language stations. While she updated the blog, she watched a Russian language program about the pianist Van Cliburn. The reception went on and off as the thunderstorm rolled on. When it finally was all over, AlteCocker took a walk to the pedestrian shopping street. She walked down it quite a bit but most businesses were closed. She managed to scrounge up a pizza and once again succeeded in getting confused by Belorussian money with too many zeros. She has heard that they will issue new rubles chopping off zeros preventing everyone from being millionaires with millions that are worth nothing. Belorussians all joke that they are millionaires. It is over 10,000 Belorussian rubles to the dollar. Due to the rampant inflation, Belorussians change almost all their money into dollars or euros. It is pointless to keep it in the bank as the inflation just erodes value.
The morning began with a long drive to Drahitchyn, the largest of the villages. There we met with Sergei, a history teacher who has made the study of the history of his village. He has contributed to some history books and is getting ready to write his own book. He took us on a tour of the town pointing out where the World War II Jewish ghetto was. The Jews were divided into those who could work and those who could not. Those who could not work were killed first. The second group remained for awhile but was eventually wiped out in 1942. It was the same old story with the Nazis extracting as much as they could from Jews before massacring them. We looked at some old houses some of which were there when my Dubin and Cooper family members lived in the town. We also viewed a stone (the only one in the cemetery). There were faint markings on the stone but nothing that could be read. Following Jewish tradition, AlteCocker placed a stone on the stone marker to remind others that she had been there. In fact she has been placing stones on all the gravestones she has found. In all cases, she placed the first stone. No doubt there will be other pilgrims.
After the tour AlteCocker took everyone out to lunch in the best restaurant in the town. The price was similar to yesterday—not much by American standards. The food was good. I had a traditional soup followed by chicken with pineapple inside. After lunch we said “good bye” to Sergei and then went on to Gorodets, the home village for my direct maternal ancestors surnamed Shornick (possibly Chernick) and Pollack. We took a walk to a cemetery and here Altecocher had her moment of the trip. There is only one marker in the cemetery. Nazis often removed Jewish stones to use them for paving. No one knows who is buried in the cemetery but under the one marker on the ground was a list of names of people who had been shot in 1942. Marina helped me read the names. There in the middle of the list was the name of Yankel Pollack and his two sons (sons names not listed). Yankel Pollack? He could have been a relative. Yankel is a variant of Jacob and my family tree contains a Jacob Pollack. Due to the Ashkenazi tradition of naming children for dead family members—and the tiny size of Gorodets—the murdered Yankel was probably a relative, but perhaps AlteCocker will never find out how. It was AlteCocker’s best moment of the trip, as she never expected to find anything directly connected to any of her family names.
Then we drove to the nearby hamlet of Mefedovici. The town name appears on records connected with the Shornicks and specifically on her great great grandmother’s Ellis Island records. It was not even certain this place existed. We found the teeny hamlet and drove its streets. There was nothing to find there and no one to ask. There were maybe 20-30 run down houses.
Then it was back to Gorodets to see if we could find this book with a list of names so AlteCocker could view it for family names. Unfortunately, it could not be located, but arrangements were made with Marina to have them email the list it to her—and she to me.
Then it was back to the hotel. AlteCocker’s plans to walk around the town were tubed by a thunderstorm. The TV in the hotel contains no English language stations. While she updated the blog, she watched a Russian language program about the pianist Van Cliburn. The reception went on and off as the thunderstorm rolled on. When it finally was all over, AlteCocker took a walk to the pedestrian shopping street. She walked down it quite a bit but most businesses were closed. She managed to scrounge up a pizza and once again succeeded in getting confused by Belorussian money with too many zeros. She has heard that they will issue new rubles chopping off zeros preventing everyone from being millionaires with millions that are worth nothing. Belorussians all joke that they are millionaires. It is over 10,000 Belorussian rubles to the dollar. Due to the rampant inflation, Belorussians change almost all their money into dollars or euros. It is pointless to keep it in the bank as the inflation just erodes value.
July 1, 2014: Jewish Brest
AlteCocker’s last day in Brest. The Jewish towns AlteCocker wanted to visit are done. Today was for the “clean up” of whatever was left and then packing. The weather gods, which had been fine to AlteCocker thus far, were not kind this morning. The rain from last night continued on and off. Who knew Menachem Begin was from Brest? We a statue to him and a plaque designating a school he had attended. There was another monument to dead Jews. There were more war memorials and then a block devoted to funny street lights referencing Nikolai Gogol’s stories. More photos. AlteCocker especially liked the one of the big nose referencing a Gogol story, duh, "The Nose."
Finally we ended up at a tiny Jewish Museum. While the museum is “under renovation”, they let us in for a look round. To call the place a “museum” is, by American standards, overly generous. It just had some random Jewish items but it did have some very nice photos of old Brest. The director of the museum ended up taking us around on a tour of the old Jewish area of Brest. AlteCocker did give him a donation for the museum. He took us into Brest’s only working synagogue. It is in an apartment. Predictably, it was run by Chabad Lubovitch. Unfortunately, in AlteCocker’s opinion, Chabad is everywhere in Eastern Europe pushing its ultraorthodox brand of Judiasm. Also unfortunately, there is almost no alternative in most cities. AlteCocker supposes some will attend Chabad synagogues and some others—who do not see ultraorthodox Judaism as their cup of tea—will not participate. To be quite frank, AlteCocker is not a fan of the Lubavitch or any branch of Chassidim. Seeing the teeny synagogue was interesting but not a place in which AlteCocker would want to worship. The young rabbi, Chaim Rabinowitz, spoke to us for a few minutes. The Lubavitch rake in "converts" in Eastern Europe by offering them clothes and food. Most Jews are, however, impervious to the Ultraorthodox just as they are in the US. There are also those in Eastern Europe that would just as soon not discuss--or have known--their Jewish background. There is very little evidence of Jews or antisemitism. In fact the reason cemeteries are being identified is that locals see the reason to notify Franklin Scwartz to get help marking them. Franklin lives in Minsk and was my tour organizer. However, he is not a typical tour organizer. He uses all the profits from the occasional tour work to support Jewish site restorations. He is doing great work.
After finishing out tour of the Jewish quarter, we had lunch at Jules Verne. No, not Jules Verne in Paris. Jules Verne in Brest. For about 10% of what you would pay at Jules Verne Eiffel Tower, AlteCocker and Marina had an equivalent lunch at Jules Verne Brest. AlteCocker had tuna. Martina had pasta. We both had apple strudel for desert and homemade chocolates. The totall bill was less than $35. We got a 30% discount because we ate lunch late during “off” hours.
AlteCocker’s last visit with Martina was to the Brest Railway Museum—an outdoor museum full of gargantuan steam engines and railway cars. Unfortunately, you could access the ineriors of very few trains, but being a confirmed train nut, AlteCocker enjoyed it all. One of the engines was named after Felix Derzinski, the former head of the KGB responsible for lots of deaths. Not a nice guy.
And so it was that AlteCocker said farewell to Marina. She repaired to her hotel room for a rest. Later she exited and bought a small piece of jewelry she did not need as a, as the person in the jewelry shop said, “harowshi souvenir” [good souvenir}. She then walked over to the pharmacy to see if she could pick up some over the counter cortisone for her back. Yes, she could. So nice when you can self medicate on a trip without a trip to the doctor. She is almost out of her emergency prescription from home and her back has been a continual problem. So, she is well stocked again. It was a real deal--not to mention a steal for what AlteCocker paid.
After the medication, AlteCocker checked out a sort of shopping center which turned out to be a bunch of small vendors. Since her back had seized up, she did not investigate the top floor, but satisfied herself with the purchase of a fridge magnet that said “Brest” in Cyrillic letters. Then it was a chocolate ice cream and back to the hotel room to begin packing and take some medication. It is time to move on to Minsk on the train just before noon tomorrow.
Finally we ended up at a tiny Jewish Museum. While the museum is “under renovation”, they let us in for a look round. To call the place a “museum” is, by American standards, overly generous. It just had some random Jewish items but it did have some very nice photos of old Brest. The director of the museum ended up taking us around on a tour of the old Jewish area of Brest. AlteCocker did give him a donation for the museum. He took us into Brest’s only working synagogue. It is in an apartment. Predictably, it was run by Chabad Lubovitch. Unfortunately, in AlteCocker’s opinion, Chabad is everywhere in Eastern Europe pushing its ultraorthodox brand of Judiasm. Also unfortunately, there is almost no alternative in most cities. AlteCocker supposes some will attend Chabad synagogues and some others—who do not see ultraorthodox Judaism as their cup of tea—will not participate. To be quite frank, AlteCocker is not a fan of the Lubavitch or any branch of Chassidim. Seeing the teeny synagogue was interesting but not a place in which AlteCocker would want to worship. The young rabbi, Chaim Rabinowitz, spoke to us for a few minutes. The Lubavitch rake in "converts" in Eastern Europe by offering them clothes and food. Most Jews are, however, impervious to the Ultraorthodox just as they are in the US. There are also those in Eastern Europe that would just as soon not discuss--or have known--their Jewish background. There is very little evidence of Jews or antisemitism. In fact the reason cemeteries are being identified is that locals see the reason to notify Franklin Scwartz to get help marking them. Franklin lives in Minsk and was my tour organizer. However, he is not a typical tour organizer. He uses all the profits from the occasional tour work to support Jewish site restorations. He is doing great work.
After finishing out tour of the Jewish quarter, we had lunch at Jules Verne. No, not Jules Verne in Paris. Jules Verne in Brest. For about 10% of what you would pay at Jules Verne Eiffel Tower, AlteCocker and Marina had an equivalent lunch at Jules Verne Brest. AlteCocker had tuna. Martina had pasta. We both had apple strudel for desert and homemade chocolates. The totall bill was less than $35. We got a 30% discount because we ate lunch late during “off” hours.
AlteCocker’s last visit with Martina was to the Brest Railway Museum—an outdoor museum full of gargantuan steam engines and railway cars. Unfortunately, you could access the ineriors of very few trains, but being a confirmed train nut, AlteCocker enjoyed it all. One of the engines was named after Felix Derzinski, the former head of the KGB responsible for lots of deaths. Not a nice guy.
And so it was that AlteCocker said farewell to Marina. She repaired to her hotel room for a rest. Later she exited and bought a small piece of jewelry she did not need as a, as the person in the jewelry shop said, “harowshi souvenir” [good souvenir}. She then walked over to the pharmacy to see if she could pick up some over the counter cortisone for her back. Yes, she could. So nice when you can self medicate on a trip without a trip to the doctor. She is almost out of her emergency prescription from home and her back has been a continual problem. So, she is well stocked again. It was a real deal--not to mention a steal for what AlteCocker paid.
After the medication, AlteCocker checked out a sort of shopping center which turned out to be a bunch of small vendors. Since her back had seized up, she did not investigate the top floor, but satisfied herself with the purchase of a fridge magnet that said “Brest” in Cyrillic letters. Then it was a chocolate ice cream and back to the hotel room to begin packing and take some medication. It is time to move on to Minsk on the train just before noon tomorrow.
July 2, 2014: Massacre on the Escalator
AlteCocker's back has acted up badly and today was a stress day—meaning AlteCocker was changing places. Without help from a lovely Belarussian woman, she would have never managed to load her bags on the train. Not fun when your tush hurts and the train is not flush with the platform. Anyone who has traveled in Europe knows the routine and it always seems as if, despite paring down everything, that AlteCocker has packed too much. The real problem is that the computer bag won’t go on top of the suitcase because the suitcase handle is too short, so AlteCocker is constantly dragging one bag with each arm—not the best for dealing with escalators as we shall see later.
AlteCocker boarded the train on the Moscow side of the Brest train station. Sitting on the track was the Paris to Moscow train. Of course AlteCocker got a shot of it. For Westerners, it is not a good way to travel, as, if you were going from, say, Warsaw to Moscow you would need a visa to pass through Belarus. Aside from the trouble that entails, it is also $160—which is why most Westerners do not take the train.
The Brest to Minsk journey has to be one of the most boring journeys in the world. 4½ hours long and the same flat scenery throughout. Belarus has no mountains (at least that AlteCocker has seen). So there was nothing much to see out the window. As is true with all Russian trains, Moscow time is posted on the train; local time was also posted. AlteCocker was in a first class car (cost $1 more) which really was a sleeping car designed for 4 people. Every bit of space is inventively used. Obviously, many Russian/Belarussian journeys can be long. Tea was available in the car, but AlteCocker never ordered it. She spent the train ride alternately trying to get comfortable (hard to do with the current back/tush situation—sleeping, reviewing Turkish and doing a little reading. Finally the train arrived in Minsk where the event of the day occurred.
While trying to figure out how to get a taxi, AlteCocker decided to go on the escalator with her two bags, as she could not find an elevator. She thinks you know where this is going. Well, she gets to the top and can’t maneuver one of the bags off the escalator. A massive pile up of people and bags results. Fortunately, aside from AlteCocker’s preexisting back problem, there were no serious injuries. Help was immediately available. She felt very stupid and sorry for all the Belarusians who also ended up in the pile. AlteCocker’s computer bag’s handle was bent in the pile up. That was the only damage. She will need to buy a replacement--grr!
Then AlteCocker faced another escalator. She was about to take both bags down the stairs, when a helpful man helped her out. AlteCocker is going to say this: Contrary to everything you read in the guidebooks, basically warning Westerners not to come here, Belarus is a nice place, Belarusians are nice people and the KGB does not follow anyone around. All the stuff about Lukashenko, well, it really is none of our business and will not affect you if you come to visit. Belarusians looks at the chaos in the Ukraine and most people have decided they would rather have order than dissolution that might come with freedom. There are a lot of places where the US has no business interfering and, in AlteCocker’s opinion, this is one of them. If the Belarussians are happy, that is really all that matters. AlteCocker would encourage those adventurous among you to come and see for yourself because AlteCocker really had a great time in Belarus
Finally getting a taxi and being relieved for the moment of bag schlepping, AlteCocker arrived at the Orbita Hotel, the hotel that had been prebooked by the tour operator AlteCocker used to arrange her travel to Belarus and her guide in Brest. There is the same sort of system of internet connection in the Orbita as there was in the Intourist Brest. AlteCocker gave it a pass. Agenda for the evening of July 2, 2014, was to meet with the tour operator and settle up for the guiding in Brest. That was when AlteCocker learned, as previously mentioned, that all profits from the tour operator’s travel business go towards restoring Jewish sites in Belarus. Again, every Belarussian suffered during World War II. The evidence is all over in the form of war memorials to the dead: Jews, partisans and soldiers. Of course there are also a lot of statues of Lenin and some of Felix Dershinsky (local boy made good). He was Stalin's KGB henchman. He was also, sigh, of Jewish background. AlteCocker has several photos of Vladimir.
AlteCocker boarded the train on the Moscow side of the Brest train station. Sitting on the track was the Paris to Moscow train. Of course AlteCocker got a shot of it. For Westerners, it is not a good way to travel, as, if you were going from, say, Warsaw to Moscow you would need a visa to pass through Belarus. Aside from the trouble that entails, it is also $160—which is why most Westerners do not take the train.
The Brest to Minsk journey has to be one of the most boring journeys in the world. 4½ hours long and the same flat scenery throughout. Belarus has no mountains (at least that AlteCocker has seen). So there was nothing much to see out the window. As is true with all Russian trains, Moscow time is posted on the train; local time was also posted. AlteCocker was in a first class car (cost $1 more) which really was a sleeping car designed for 4 people. Every bit of space is inventively used. Obviously, many Russian/Belarussian journeys can be long. Tea was available in the car, but AlteCocker never ordered it. She spent the train ride alternately trying to get comfortable (hard to do with the current back/tush situation—sleeping, reviewing Turkish and doing a little reading. Finally the train arrived in Minsk where the event of the day occurred.
While trying to figure out how to get a taxi, AlteCocker decided to go on the escalator with her two bags, as she could not find an elevator. She thinks you know where this is going. Well, she gets to the top and can’t maneuver one of the bags off the escalator. A massive pile up of people and bags results. Fortunately, aside from AlteCocker’s preexisting back problem, there were no serious injuries. Help was immediately available. She felt very stupid and sorry for all the Belarusians who also ended up in the pile. AlteCocker’s computer bag’s handle was bent in the pile up. That was the only damage. She will need to buy a replacement--grr!
Then AlteCocker faced another escalator. She was about to take both bags down the stairs, when a helpful man helped her out. AlteCocker is going to say this: Contrary to everything you read in the guidebooks, basically warning Westerners not to come here, Belarus is a nice place, Belarusians are nice people and the KGB does not follow anyone around. All the stuff about Lukashenko, well, it really is none of our business and will not affect you if you come to visit. Belarusians looks at the chaos in the Ukraine and most people have decided they would rather have order than dissolution that might come with freedom. There are a lot of places where the US has no business interfering and, in AlteCocker’s opinion, this is one of them. If the Belarussians are happy, that is really all that matters. AlteCocker would encourage those adventurous among you to come and see for yourself because AlteCocker really had a great time in Belarus
Finally getting a taxi and being relieved for the moment of bag schlepping, AlteCocker arrived at the Orbita Hotel, the hotel that had been prebooked by the tour operator AlteCocker used to arrange her travel to Belarus and her guide in Brest. There is the same sort of system of internet connection in the Orbita as there was in the Intourist Brest. AlteCocker gave it a pass. Agenda for the evening of July 2, 2014, was to meet with the tour operator and settle up for the guiding in Brest. That was when AlteCocker learned, as previously mentioned, that all profits from the tour operator’s travel business go towards restoring Jewish sites in Belarus. Again, every Belarussian suffered during World War II. The evidence is all over in the form of war memorials to the dead: Jews, partisans and soldiers. Of course there are also a lot of statues of Lenin and some of Felix Dershinsky (local boy made good). He was Stalin's KGB henchman. He was also, sigh, of Jewish background. AlteCocker has several photos of Vladimir.
July 3, 2014: 70 Years since the end of World War II in Belarus
The US has the 4th of July. Belarus has the 3rd. It celebrates the liberation of Minsk from the Nazis at the end of World War II. This year marked the 70th anniversary. So a big event was planned for Minsk. A new museum celebrating the Great Patriotic War (the name for World War II here) just opened. Unfortunately, AlteCocker did not have time to see it.
How do they celebrate? You know one of those old Soviet style parades that features tanks run through the streets. Was AlteCocker going to miss this? Is the Pope a Catholic? Of course not.
The national day is a big event in Belarus—bigger than the 4th of July. Remember ordinary people suffered and died here at the hands of the Nazis. No family was unaffected. Then there was Stalin. They don’t talk about Stalin much here. The focus is mostly on “fascists” who are defined as the “Nazis”.
AlteCocker deliberately waited until 12:00noon before heading into town knowing that this would be a long day. The parade was not set to begin until 9:00pm. No one was sure why they were doing it so late, but our friend Vladimir Putin was in town to make a political point in the Ukraine crisis by conferring with his closest ally, Lukashenko. At first it was thought that Putin would be at the parade but Putin went back home. Lukashenko, the Belarus military dictator had to see his friend off at the airport, so the parade was moved to 9:00pm. It is usually held earlier in the day.
The day is also celebrated by entertainment in the parks. AlteCocker hit the main one on Pieramozau Prospect. There were three stages. The entertainment was largely Eastern European schmaltz with a heavy dose of folk entertainment—you know guys doing the kazatskye, etc. It was lots of fun. There were food stalls and AlteCocker had shaslik (probably pork, but AlteCocker’s limited Russian did not allow her to ask). She also had an ice cream. Entertainment was also provided by a Belarus old guy who clearly had had too much vodka, who insisted she try some. After that he plied her with kvass (a drink made from fermented wheat). OK, AlteCocker tried these things when the guy offered, but repeated offers of more were met by AlteCocker telling him firmly that enough was enough. He was entertaining but AlteCocker felt sorry for his long suffering wife.
Interestingly, in this society where guns are tightly controlled, many children had toy guns or balloons in the shape of tanks. As someone old enough to have enjoyed cap pistols, such paraphernalia do not necessarily translate in to turning into an American gun festishist as an adult.
Walking around AlteCocker ran into to two guys from New York who have started an English language school in Minsk. They were brothers. Both had beards, long hair and Uncle Sam hats with American flags draped over their shoulders. People were asking to take photos with them constantly. The guys were wearing shirts advertising their language school. Two real characters for sure.
Later both the two Uncle Sams and AlteCocker got interviewed by a reporter from the main Minsk paper. The young woman who interviewed AlteCocker promised to send AlteCocker the link to the piece. Yeah right—as if AlteCocker’s joke Russian would allow her to read the piece. Ha! Maybe AlteCocker’s picture will be in the paper, but probably the two Uncle Sams will make the cut. They were sure funnier.
Then it was time to get into position for the parade. What you need to realize is that unless you have tickets for the stands, you really are going to watch most of it on giant screen TV. Tickets are presumably given to the faithful. The parade is largely a performance for Lukashenko. The public is an afterthought. The maneuvers are done in front of the reviewing stand where Lukashenko stood with his son, a boy of about 13 years old. No doubt he is being groomed as the next head of state. The public appears to be an afterthought. It does not, however, seem to bother the Belarussians who showed up in large numbers. The parade began with the arrival of Lukashenko who then proceeded to give a speech. People clapped politely when the speech was over. In AlteCocker’s opinion it went on too long. Maybe they clapped because it was over.
So the parade, unlike anything, AlteCocker has ever seen, began. Booming canon several times heralded all sorts of military equipment. AlteCocker wonders if the tanks are a little hard on paved roads. They were very impressive. Small country showing its military might. Helicopters and planes flew overhead in formation. AlteCocker had a terrible time taking photos as it was late and the light became limited. She did get one photo of Lukashenko but from a long way off, of course. Security was very similar to what it is for a presidential event—bag inspections, etc.—really nothing unexpected or inappropriate. The police did an excellent job of maintaining order without being heavy handed. There was good crowd control in the Metro afterward as well. Contrary to what you might expect from all the negative hype, there was no heavy handed police behavior. AlteCocker has the impression that military service is a popular job due to general lack of jobs in Belarus. Military service is also mandatory for young men for 1-2 years. University graduates only have to serve one year. The less educated serve two. If enough of the population is employed in the Army, it certainly gives Lukashenko a base of support. It is certainly more lucrative than waiting around outside hotels for hours in a taxi trying to scrounge up a fare. There seem to be way too many taxis for what is needed in Belarus. It smacks of "no other job available as an option."
After the tanks and large military equipment, the vehicles got smaller and smaller. When it came to the tractors, trucks, qnd buses, AlteCocker lost interest. Then came the synchronized sports demonstrations that are a feature of this sort of parade. AlteCocker began to wend her way back to the Metro. There were some irrational rules about where you could walk to exit leading to a bit of time wasted. After the parade finished, there was a fireworks show, but it really was nothing special. Finally, AlteCocker arrived at the Metro she needed and queued to get inside. Fortunately, AlteCocker is not stupid. She bought TWO Metro tokens in the morning when she set out. There was a long queue for people buying tokens in the Metro. AlteCocker was NOT in it. Same deal after the 4th of July fireworks in DC.
Eventually, AlteCocker stumbled into her hotel, took a shower and pulled out all the paperwork for Istanbul tomorrow. It is moving day again. The blog will now move on to the one on Istanbul. Thanks for reading.
How do they celebrate? You know one of those old Soviet style parades that features tanks run through the streets. Was AlteCocker going to miss this? Is the Pope a Catholic? Of course not.
The national day is a big event in Belarus—bigger than the 4th of July. Remember ordinary people suffered and died here at the hands of the Nazis. No family was unaffected. Then there was Stalin. They don’t talk about Stalin much here. The focus is mostly on “fascists” who are defined as the “Nazis”.
AlteCocker deliberately waited until 12:00noon before heading into town knowing that this would be a long day. The parade was not set to begin until 9:00pm. No one was sure why they were doing it so late, but our friend Vladimir Putin was in town to make a political point in the Ukraine crisis by conferring with his closest ally, Lukashenko. At first it was thought that Putin would be at the parade but Putin went back home. Lukashenko, the Belarus military dictator had to see his friend off at the airport, so the parade was moved to 9:00pm. It is usually held earlier in the day.
The day is also celebrated by entertainment in the parks. AlteCocker hit the main one on Pieramozau Prospect. There were three stages. The entertainment was largely Eastern European schmaltz with a heavy dose of folk entertainment—you know guys doing the kazatskye, etc. It was lots of fun. There were food stalls and AlteCocker had shaslik (probably pork, but AlteCocker’s limited Russian did not allow her to ask). She also had an ice cream. Entertainment was also provided by a Belarus old guy who clearly had had too much vodka, who insisted she try some. After that he plied her with kvass (a drink made from fermented wheat). OK, AlteCocker tried these things when the guy offered, but repeated offers of more were met by AlteCocker telling him firmly that enough was enough. He was entertaining but AlteCocker felt sorry for his long suffering wife.
Interestingly, in this society where guns are tightly controlled, many children had toy guns or balloons in the shape of tanks. As someone old enough to have enjoyed cap pistols, such paraphernalia do not necessarily translate in to turning into an American gun festishist as an adult.
Walking around AlteCocker ran into to two guys from New York who have started an English language school in Minsk. They were brothers. Both had beards, long hair and Uncle Sam hats with American flags draped over their shoulders. People were asking to take photos with them constantly. The guys were wearing shirts advertising their language school. Two real characters for sure.
Later both the two Uncle Sams and AlteCocker got interviewed by a reporter from the main Minsk paper. The young woman who interviewed AlteCocker promised to send AlteCocker the link to the piece. Yeah right—as if AlteCocker’s joke Russian would allow her to read the piece. Ha! Maybe AlteCocker’s picture will be in the paper, but probably the two Uncle Sams will make the cut. They were sure funnier.
Then it was time to get into position for the parade. What you need to realize is that unless you have tickets for the stands, you really are going to watch most of it on giant screen TV. Tickets are presumably given to the faithful. The parade is largely a performance for Lukashenko. The public is an afterthought. The maneuvers are done in front of the reviewing stand where Lukashenko stood with his son, a boy of about 13 years old. No doubt he is being groomed as the next head of state. The public appears to be an afterthought. It does not, however, seem to bother the Belarussians who showed up in large numbers. The parade began with the arrival of Lukashenko who then proceeded to give a speech. People clapped politely when the speech was over. In AlteCocker’s opinion it went on too long. Maybe they clapped because it was over.
So the parade, unlike anything, AlteCocker has ever seen, began. Booming canon several times heralded all sorts of military equipment. AlteCocker wonders if the tanks are a little hard on paved roads. They were very impressive. Small country showing its military might. Helicopters and planes flew overhead in formation. AlteCocker had a terrible time taking photos as it was late and the light became limited. She did get one photo of Lukashenko but from a long way off, of course. Security was very similar to what it is for a presidential event—bag inspections, etc.—really nothing unexpected or inappropriate. The police did an excellent job of maintaining order without being heavy handed. There was good crowd control in the Metro afterward as well. Contrary to what you might expect from all the negative hype, there was no heavy handed police behavior. AlteCocker has the impression that military service is a popular job due to general lack of jobs in Belarus. Military service is also mandatory for young men for 1-2 years. University graduates only have to serve one year. The less educated serve two. If enough of the population is employed in the Army, it certainly gives Lukashenko a base of support. It is certainly more lucrative than waiting around outside hotels for hours in a taxi trying to scrounge up a fare. There seem to be way too many taxis for what is needed in Belarus. It smacks of "no other job available as an option."
After the tanks and large military equipment, the vehicles got smaller and smaller. When it came to the tractors, trucks, qnd buses, AlteCocker lost interest. Then came the synchronized sports demonstrations that are a feature of this sort of parade. AlteCocker began to wend her way back to the Metro. There were some irrational rules about where you could walk to exit leading to a bit of time wasted. After the parade finished, there was a fireworks show, but it really was nothing special. Finally, AlteCocker arrived at the Metro she needed and queued to get inside. Fortunately, AlteCocker is not stupid. She bought TWO Metro tokens in the morning when she set out. There was a long queue for people buying tokens in the Metro. AlteCocker was NOT in it. Same deal after the 4th of July fireworks in DC.
Eventually, AlteCocker stumbled into her hotel, took a shower and pulled out all the paperwork for Istanbul tomorrow. It is moving day again. The blog will now move on to the one on Istanbul. Thanks for reading.