Day 3: An Interview and Returning to Ponar

Last night, when we returned, I bagged some items taken at Ponar - some soil, some tealight, a flower. We had to go to a supermarket to find Ziploc bags but there was none, so we make do with freezer bags and masking tape. I am wondering how the flower will survive. I pressed it in my note book as a means of preserving and keeping it. Back at the apartment, I looked about and decided to tear a strip of carton box, and fold it over to use as a makeshift hard envelope. Shiv says it is a 'fighting flower.' She found it at the escape pit. It is scrawny and fragile looking. I hope it makes it to an exhibition. One of the ideas is to collect everyday items - things that speak to the Jewish experience - and host them as exhibits at an exhibition we hope to put together eventually at some point. I don't know if Fighting Flower will make it...


Soil from Ponar, pit # 1

We return to Choral Synagogue to speak to the caretaker, Isroel. It becomes an hour-long interview. He speaks articulately. About how he comes from Minsk, Belarus. How they dived flat on the ground when the Nazi bombs fell. How his dad enlisted in the Soviet army. How he went to the hospital to visit him. How they sang a song about soldiers in a convoy meeting a cat on the road. About his children, his wife, a friend who passed away 3 years ago. About the Jewish cemetery that keeps him in Vilnius. About how he would like to die in Israel. About learning to read Hebrew. About how he was ashamed to be a Jew when he was younger. How the swastikas on Jewish buildings makes him sad. When the interview concludes, he prays. I like his sing song voice; it is very melodious.


Isroel

We have lunch at a place call Belmonto. It is a resort of sorts; looks like a theme park with restaurants, cafes and bars and a watermill and waterfall and stream. I have the boiled cabbage stuffed with mince, in a light broth and a dollop of sour cream on the side. It is very good. My choices are paying off.


Cabbage and mince

It has occurred to me that some may find it incongruous or disrespectful that I am writing about food even as I speak of the holocaust. But I do not think these experiences are misplaced or out of sync. Living and dying are two sides of the same coin, are they not?

We return to Ponar to speak to people who live near there; to record their thoughts. Some young people tell us that they have heard of the word 'genocide' but they don't really know what it means. An elderly Polish gentlemen is lonely; he knows nothing about Ponar but would like to tell us about how lonely he feels, about how he lives everyday and how those he knows are "dropping like flies." He is 81.

Jess and Dan decide to take more footage in Ponar. The weather isn't cooperating. It starts to drizzle. We wait. Later, the sun comes out but it's only a brief respite. We speak to a postgrad student who is also a guide; she is visiting Ponar to brush up her knowledge about the place. We speak to a man who manages the museum; he asks for a lift to the station.


Jess and Dan in action.

Day 2: A Visit to Ponar/Panieri

This morning, we meet our guide Chaim. We decide to plan our day over breakfast in the old Jewish quarter. Chaim tells me his name is pronounced "Ha-im" with a strong inflection on the "h" like a cross between "k" and "h". It makes me think of the "(k)hreme cheese" joke that Shiv told me once, about the Jewish pronunciation of "c" which sounds more like "(k)h". He points to the Hebrew lettering on his cap and sweatshirt. He tells me it means 'guide.' (Later, I am told by Jess that it also means 'the learned one.')


Chaim

We decide to visit Ponar, also known as Panieri. It is the site of the memorial to the largest killing field in Lithuania. At The Green House yesterday, we saw a video clip of a survivor describing one of the pits there. The narrator was choking back tears when she described how she tried to scramble 'under' the Nazi guards, hoping to escape. She said, 'On left grandmother, on right aunt, when we were there, we were no longer father, grandmother,' something to that effect. I took it to mean that it was everyone to themselves at that point, at the precipice, on the brink of death. Shiv thinks she meant that they were all just bodies, nameless, without identities; pieces of meat...

We exit the restaurant. Out on the street, Chaim walks us up and down and points out places of interest. A passerby overhears us and she and Chaim exchange a few words. Chaim translates. She takes offense at his use of the word "Vilna" instead of "Vilnius." Later Chaim explains to us that to Jews, he uses the name Vilna; to others, he uses the Lithuanian name, Vilnius.


Chaim narrating on Stickliu Street


We arrive at Ponar, also known as Palnieri. I am a bit confused. The stone carving marking the entrance to the site is Panieru Memorialas. I can't tell what is Lithuanian, what's in Russian, or Polish. There are also Hebrew letterings.


Entrance to Panieri Memorial

The landscape is dotted with stone monuments. One to Russian Jews. One to Polish Jews. One to Lithuanian Jews. There is a small museum but it wasn't open. I stick my camera lens through the grid of the gate to take a picture of the map on the wall. I can't see clearly what it is, but it looks like a map of Lithuania with icons to mark the killing fields.

We see a lady trundling by with a shopping bag on wheels. She looks like she's off to the market, as if she lives in the forests of Ponar and is off to the local Maxima supermarket. She looks incongruous with the landscape.

There is a lone grave. It is the only grave in this vast forest of pits and monuments and trees. One solitary grave to mark one person - Helinus Fegius (1888-1944). We are told that his family erected this tombstone in this doctor's honour. The rest, all 99,999 remain nameless and unmarked. They have to make do with stone monuments and wreaths to the collective.


Solitary gravesite

Dan and Jesse have the camera out and the boom pole and they are trailing beside, behind and around Shiv and Chaim. I am still waiting for Vy to confirm when he can come today evening to set up the modem, and also to see if Andreas, a volunteer at The Green House, can still meet us for an interview later. I have kept my mobile on and I don't want the signal to interfere with the audio taping so I stay a fair bit away from where the action is; going close every now and then to catch Chaim's narration.


Shiv looking pensive

I busy myself recording photos behind them. It will be a way for me to archive what we have seen and video-ed with the transcripts that will follow. I need visual cues. Besides, I know that Shiv eventually wants a record of places, things and people.

We follow along the paths and come to a circle of stones. It is the first pit. People were lined up around the rim and shot; their bodies falling into the pits and piled high on top of each other.

We walk along some more. The second and largest pit. I guess it is about 100 feet or so in diameter and about 15 feet deep. I imagine how many bodies can fit in here. I also wonder what it would be like to be alive and under 15 feet of bodies... I can't help but think these thoughts. And yet... when I look around me, it is strangely quiet and scenic. We walk further on, a third pit. Opposite, what resembles a pit, but we are told it is the escape pit, where prisoners created a tunnel using spoons...


The largest pit at Ponar

I can hear the sound of a train passing by. Apart from that, all is quiet. I don't see or hear any birds. I only feel the cool breeze brush past me and over me; the sound of gentle rustling of trees. The forest is deep. I imagine what it must have been like to walk here, before there were paths, when it was all woods. I wonder how many trees are in this area. I fancy that each tree is a life that was taken, rebirthed. I wonder if there are 100,000 trees in this forest.


How many trees are there?





The day passes quickly. We speed off to interview Andreas at The Green House. It is almost 4.30pm. We are tired. We return to the apartment. Dan downloads the day's footage and photos. I download the photos I have taken and start recording them. Still no internet. Vy sends me a text. He says he can only come at 10pm unless it is too late. I ask him to come. We all desperately want to check our emails. Besides, during the course of the day, it comes to me that it will be useful to journal my thoughts down. It will help me keep track of daily events. I have seen and heard so much in such a short space of time. If I don't record them, I will surely forget something. While waiting for Vy to arrive, I start archiving and scanning documents. I have taken 153 photos. I have to sort them to see what to keep, what to discard and how to keep track in a way that makes sense and will be easily retrievable. At 10pm, Vy shows up. By 10.30pm, we are able to get online. Thank goodness.

Day 1: Getting a Sense of the Place

Today, we decide to venture off to The Green House, one of the museums operated by the Vilna Gaon Jewish State Museum of Lithuania. There is a Holocaust exhibition there. Shiv has spoken to the director there before. We decide to visit her to discuss a possible collaboration and to see if she is willing to set an appointment for an interview.

Shiv has been here, but the rest of us haven't. We decide to cab it as we aren't sure how far away it is. Turns out that it isn't too far. The cab drops us off on a nondescript street. I am surprised. I didn't imagine a museum to be housed here. It's hard to describe except that it looks like a suburban area with some shops nearby. There is a small sign mounted on one of the buildings which reads "Jewish Museum." (See picture below: can you spot it?)


The road leading up to The Green House

We walk up the hill and I see now why it is called The Green House. I imagined it was a glass building resembling a horticultural greenhouse. It is wooden and painted green.


The Green House

We spend a few hours there talking to the director and a volunteer from Austria. We get a tour and a history lesson. I learn some things about the Second World War and the holocaust in Lithuania I had never heard of before. Like how the war began for Lithuania on 22 June 1941. Where I come from (Malaysia), and as a Chinese descendant, the war began in 1939 (maybe even earlier, when I think about it, as the Japanese invasion of China began in 1937). How segregation of the Jews was swift - by 6 September 1941 the first ghetto was set up; and how, six weeks later, the first smaller ghetto was liquidated. Liquidated. That word; it has a fluid quality to it. It's not a word that was meant to apply to human lives. Makes me think of how water condenses and becomes air. Poof. A split second. The bat of an eyelid. Liquidated. 100,000 Jews were killed in Ponar alone. Of the 240,000 Jews in Lithuania, only 20,000 survived. The Jewish community today numbers 2,000. A far cry from the days when Vilnius was known as the Jerusalem of Lithuania or the Jerusalem of the North.

The director suggests we visit the Tolerance Center about 10-15 minutes walk away. She is busy and asks us to come back later. We head off. On the way, we decide to head for the Choral Synagogue, the only remaining synagogue in the city. We meet two caretakers; one of them, Isroel, agrees to be interviewed on Sunday. Saturday is off limits as it is the Shabbat.


Exterior of Choral Synagogue


Interior of Choral Synagogue

We head off, we are hungry now. We duck into a cafe. I order a Spanish sandwich. When it comes, I find I have the wrong one. Dan is eating my order. I get his cheese and tomato, melted in a panini roll. The food doesn't agree with us. Mine is odd. It has mayo in it. Globs. We eat a few bites and vow to look for 'real' food. I don't think we have gotten used to the flavours yet. Dinner last night was equally forgettable.

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At the Tolerance Center, we buzz a doorbell and are allowed in. I am not quite sure if the center is open to the public. I don't really understand about the need to be buzzed in. Did we come at the wrong time? The lady in attendance there is very nice. We tell her that we have been directed to the center by the director of The Green House. She unlocks the steel mesh on the upper floor so we can see the exhibit and allows us to take pictures. We take a few. Physical evidence of Jewish culture. Some are from the 18th century, salvaged from the remnants of the Vilnius Great Synagogue. [Below: Fragments of Reader's Table (Omed) and Prayer Shawl (Tallit) and Torah Ark's Doors]



It is almost time to head back to The Green House. We walk briskly and pass a park, where I can't resist taking this photo of a lady having a quiet lunch moment. The pigeon at her feet seems like a lunch companion.


Lunch for two

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The staff at The Green House are really nice. They welcome us warmly. We chat with Rachiel, the director. The conversation veers off to her personal story. She talks about the Nazi invasion and how she, like other children, were at a youth/children's resort by the sea when it happened. How among the children, there were Jewish kids too. How some went off to Sweden by sea, how some went off to Russia. Like her. To an orphanage. I am curious. Who told them to do so? How did they go without adults? Did their parents send money to them and organise passage? I guess we will hear more when we have a proper interview with her. We set a date and a time to do so.

It has only been day 2 but it has been very productive. We are all knackered and can't wait to get back, shower and have some dinner. I check my mobile. No news from Vy about the internet. I text him. I get a reply back that he is too busy and can't come. He suggests Saturday evening. I say okay and ask him to keep me posted. We will be meeting a historian and guide tomorrow. I know we will be out all day. I tell Vy that he needs to let me know sooner when he will come so we are in to let him into the apartment.

That night, we eat at an Irish place. Or at least a place owned by an Irish person. It is a mixed cuisine menu; there is pasta, there is Thai soup, there is fish. I order the Thai soup. It blows my socks off - all heat, no other flavour. I vow to myself to go with the safer option in the future.

Arrival: A Recap

Today is already Day 4 in Vilnius, though technically speaking, it should be Day 3 seeing that we arrived late on Thursday, 28th August, at about 11pm.

The flight was delayed, leaving us stuck on board an Air Lithuania plane for about an hour before we finally taxied and took off. When we arrived, we are met by V, whom we had arranged our rental apartment with. He takes one look at our luggage - all 9 cases and a few hand luggage pieces and realises his car is not up to the task. We have 4 people in our team; Jesse and Dan, who will handle the camera and video; Shiv and I, who will deal with the interviews, archiving, collection of samples and audio transcripts. Really, it is my partner Shiv's project and part of her PhD research. I am playing the role of research coordinator. Jesse and Dan will be taking footage and shaping it into a documentary. We have 2 hard cases for the video and sound equipment, two long carrier bags for tripods and boom pole, plus a few other cases holding everything else including an audio recorder, laptops to a scanner, though we did decide to skip on the printer.

We decide to split up and grab a cab since V's car isn't big enough for us and our luggage. The cab driver doesn't look too pleased; he refuses to let us put one of our bags on the back seat. He motions with his hands; he doesn't want us to scratch the back of the seat. V comes over and shows his disapproval, helping the cab driver pile the bags high in the boot. It's all in. V tells the cabbie the address of the apartment we are going to. We get in; Dan and Jesse go with V. The cabbie veers off from the pavement and screeches away. For the first time in a very long time, I actually decide to put on my seatbelt, though I don't usually when I am in the back seat. His driving is nerve wracking to say the least. He doesn't smile and he doesn't seem to care for strangers. Similar to the people we passed at the airport; most don't smile and when they bumped into us, they didn't look up; they didn't make way either despite the overladen trolleys - I come to the conclusion that Lithuanians in general aren't particularly friendly. Then again, it's early days.

We are deposited in front of a building. It looks like an office block, with shops downstairs. Are we in the right place? There is no sign of V or the guys. A lady comes towards us and I realise it's J, whom we made the payment transfer to. We are joined by Vy, a skinny man with dusty blond hair. They ask us to follow them. Shiv and I drag 3 suitcases between us up to a heavy wooden door. Vy opens the door and I catch a glimpse of a long flight of wide stairs. I groan. Shiv's bag alone is 29 kgs. Thankfully, Vy helps lug one case up the stairs.

The apartment is sparsely furnished but clean. V and the guys join us 5 minutes later. They are huffing and puffing. They went up 3 flights of stairs, as did we. We give the apartment a once over to make sure we know where things are and what's in it - kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, washing machine, etc. But no internet. Why? Okay, it appears there's a mix up of sorts. V is talking. Vy is talking. J is talking. All deep in animated conversation. I don't understand a word they say but I do know we specifically asked if there was internet access when we booked. J, who we paid the deposit to, is apologetic. So is V, whom we corresponded with and answered all our queries before we booked. Vy is anything but. There is talk about payment to Vy. Apparently, he is the landlord. He says to me haughtily, "I, no money, no internet." I try and explain that we were expecting to do an online bank transfer to pay the rental, but no internet, no money. He tells me he is too busy tomorrow to come and put in a modem. He suggests I go to an internet cafe and pay him first. I decide that I am too tired to haggle. I get straight to the point and tell him that we agreed to take the apartment because we were informed there was internet access. No internet, no money, I say sternly. He tells me he'll come tomorrow to fix it. Fingers crossed.



That night, we hunker down to discuss the brief for the project...