Back to Białystok

Ted. In October of 2001, Judy and I traveled to Poland. Our purpose was to explore a bit of a country emerging from life under communism but also to visit the birthplace of my father’s mother (both of his parents emigrated from Poland to Chicago around 1910). 

Through Servas, we made the acquaintance of a host in Białystok, the closest major city to Grandma’s village. He was shocked when he heard that my ancestors were from Wysokie Mazowieckie since that was where his parents were from. He assured me that “My father says I MUST help you because you are one of us!” I’ll never forget the tearful moment when a city clerk located the records from 1895 and we turned to the entry for Grandma’s birth in March of that year. 

Special bonds have developed between our families since that time. His sister, Karolina spent the summer of 2002 with us to improve her English. Robert met up with us in Italy one time and then again in Berlin. We returned to Białystok in 2018 and were impressed with the improvements that had taken place once Poland joined the EU. 

One reason for our extended stay in Kaunas was that it was close to our Polish family. First Robert and Ania had visited us in Kaunas and Vilnius so now it was our turn to take the train to Białystok for a long weekend reacquainting ourselves with everyone and learning how the local economy was progressing.

Happily, the economic miracle has continued and Robert’s family is thriving. Their older son, Piotr is about to graduate from the University of Warsaw and just got married to the lovely Tosha. Younger son Michael has started his first year at the same school.

We took one day to return to Grandma's village which has absolutely exploded. A huge milk processing plant is now based there and families are moving in for the jobs. We also reconnected with Robert's parents.

Roman, Judy, Barbara & Ted

One sunny Saturday, Judy, Robert, Ania and I rendezvoused with Karolina and her family at the Podlasie Museum of Folk Culture. It was their annual Potato Festival so, in addition to visiting old buildings and listening to traditional music we watched folk dancing and drank and ate local specialties.

Free baked potatoes!!

Ania, Karolina & Judy

We love visiting new countries and meeting new people but there is something special about returning to a place that you know and love. As we told everyone there, “We’ll be back!”

Living in Russia's shadow

Ted. Having just spent a month in Kaunas, which is just 40 miles from the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad, we have been asked on a couple of occasions what the current feelings are in Lithuania, Latvia and Poland regarding their unruly neighbor. 

Judy and I are not in the habit of asking every person we encounter, “What do you think of Russia?” We normally avoid asking anyone about local politics, wherever we roam, unless a resident brings the subject up first. 

Having said that, we have heard a few comments. Do these thoughts represent the majority opinion? Who knows? 

For example, a Lithuanian Uber driver told us that “He loves Putin and he hopes that Putin is successful in killing all of the Russian people!” 

We mentioned to our friends in Poland that, should their country be invaded, we would help them to resettle in the US. They politely declined, saying “Thank you, but if that happens, we will stay and fight!” That sounds surprising until one understands that young Poles still hear stories from their grandparents about the Polish-Russian War of 1920 - which Poland won! 

Most folks that we have encountered seem to be genuinely patriotic. Several, who lived abroad for a number of years, have returned home for good. A young Polish man dreams of studying in another country but says he would then return home to live. 

The determination demonstrated by the citizens of Ukraine seems to be a good example. Eating in a Georgian restaurant (the country, not the state), Judy spied a woman with a t-shirt that said “20% of Georgia is also occupied by Russia!” 

The total population of the EU nations is three times larger than Russia and its GDP (PPP) is four times bigger! Thus one would conclude that a united Europe could easily withstand any challenge by Russia. They key word there, though, is “united.” 

Furthermore, I can understand the reluctance of countries like Poland and Lithuania to send peacekeeping troops to Ukraine as that would weaken the defense of their own borders. We have all read about the recent incursions into NATO countries and that just adds to the anger of the affected peoples. 

The big question on everyone’s mind is always, “What will the Americans do?” As a country, we like to pull for the underdog but we are also reluctant to get our troops involved in more wars. I try to bear in mind what Abba Eban used to say, “Nations do behave wisely once they have exhausted all other alternatives.”

Along a rail siding in Poland

Riga, Latvia

Ted. While our primary focus this month is on Lithuania, we decided to spend three days in nearby Latvia just to get a sense of the differences and similarities between these two Baltic nations. In recent months, good train service has begun to link Poland and the three Baltic countries so it was a simple matter to take a four hour train ride to the capital city of Riga. 

One of the immediate differences one notices on crossing the border is the language. Latvian is somewhat similar to Lithuanian but I have read that is like saying that English is similar to Dutch. Both are Baltic languages but there are many differences. In addition, one hears a LOT of Russian in Latvia which is definitely not the case in Lithuania. 

One of the consequences of the takeover by the Soviet Union in 1944 is that many Russians moved to the Baltic countries. They seemed to really like Latvia because today only 66% of the population speaks Lithuanian as a first language while 24% speak Russian (and it’s just 5% in Lithuania). To counter this cultural conflict, the government has made Latvian the only official language so all government matters and education take place in Latvian. Now, the shoe is on the other foot and Russian speakers have to learn Latvian to survive. That must really irritate the folks who grew up in the USSR. 

One day we toured the former headquarters of the KGB, known to locals as The Corner House. That explained a lot. 

The Corner House

Another big difference from Lithuania is religion. Latvia was dominated by the Teutonic Knights during their crusades against the Baltic pagans. They invited German traders and Riga soon became a Hanseatic city/state. With the Reformation, the German speakers became Protestants and Latvia has been a predominately Lutheran country ever since. While the churches are a mix of Catholic, Lutheran and Orthodox, most are Lutheran. Notably absent are synagogues. As in most of Europe, the large Jewish population was virtually wiped out by the Germans. We will do another post on this topic later. 

St Peter's Lutheran Church

Orthodox church

During our three days, we explored the old town and the new town. I thought it was better preserved than Vilnius (less war damage) and there are lots of charming cobblestone streets and old buildings. 

One evening, we dropped into the Legs or Tears Wine Bar for a drink and a snack. Business was slow so we were able to have a long conversation with the bartender, Christina, who taught us a lot. As a proud Latvian, she has little sympathy for the Russians who arrived in her country uninvited. 

Christina

If you look at a map, you will see that Russia, the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad and Russia’s satellite, Belarus virtually surround little Latvia and Lithuania. Roughly 1/3 of the population in both countries has emigrated since the death of the Soviet Union but those who remain, as well as the many who have returned, feel confident about the future. Their attitude toward their aggressive neighbor reminds me of the defiant mouse in the old cartoon. May God bless them all!

Vilnius

Ted. Judy had visited Moscow twice back in the mid 1990's but this was my first trip to a part of the former Soviet Union. When our Polish friends offered to take us to visit Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, I was curious to see how much looked liked the rest of Europe and how much looked like my imagined vision of the old USSR. 

On our way to Vilnius, Robert said that we had to make on stop first. Trakai, the 14th century capital of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, is famous for its beautiful island castle.

No, I don't own a drone. This photo is from the internet

During his reign, Grand Duke Vytautas invited a number of Karaite families to move from Crimea to Trakai and their presence is still felt. 

Kariate houses have three windows across the front

This fascinating sect has their own language and practices a form of Judaism that dates back to 8th century Mesopotamia. We had lunch at a Karaite restaurant and enjoyed their stuffed pastries called kibinai. We finished with their “national drink,” a glass of krupnik. This is a sweet, spiced flavored vodka that my Polish grandpa used to make at Christmas. 

After this pleasant stop, we arrived in Vilnius, a city that has been a very important to Poles since 1569 when Poland and Lithuania were united. Even today, the first language of 6% of the population of Lithuania is Polish. Many historic markers in Vilnius are written in Lithuanian and Polish. I was surprised to find that, in spite of the cultural ties, there are virtually no similarities between Polish (a West Slavic language) and Lithuanian (an East Baltic language). 

Vilnius was founded in 1323 by Grand Duke Gedminas who moved his capital here.

A drunken Grand Duke being nudged home?

The castle tower which bears his name is still an important symbol of the city. 

In 1989, over two million people joined hands to create The Baltic Way, a human chain from Tallinn, Estonia, through Riga, Latvia, to the Gedminas Tower in Vilnius; a peaceful protest of the occupation by the Soviet Union of these three little countries. This brave action by approximately 1/4 of the total population led to independence for all three countries within the next two years. 

Roman Catholicism is the primary religion in both Poland and Lithuania so the two peoples share many shrines. Interestingly, Poland became officially Christian in 966 AD but Lithuania was the last European pagan country and didn’t become officially Christian until 1387. Vilnius is known as The City of 1,000 Churches and we visited a bunch of them. The Gate of Dawn is a major pilgrimage site for Catholics from around the world. 

The shrine is above a gate to the city

Independent thinker Judy loved strolling through Užpis, a quirky little neighborhood that, like Christiania in Copenhagen, declared itself a republic in 1997. Allegedly, they wrote their constitution in about three hours. 

Robert made sure we got to visit the central market where I drooled at all of the smoked meat stalls. 

After that, we were all starving so Robert guided us a nearby kosher restaurant which is about all that is left of a once thriving Jewish neighborhood (more about that in another post). 

Judy, Ania, Robert and I saw lots of beautiful buildings and cozy neighborhoods in our three day visit. There was still lots of Stalinist architecture to be found but the Lithuanians are creating a bold forward looking capital of which they can be proud.

The New Town

Sugihara House

Judy. Ok, I’m going to post out of sequence here, because a couple of days ago Ted and I experienced something profound. 

Sugihara House in Kaunas

One of the “musts” listed on several Kaunas travel sites is the Sugihara House, the home and Consul office of Chiune Sugihara, Japanese diplomat (and spy) sent in the 1930’s to Kaunas, to keep an eye on the Nazis and Soviets. Both countries were sending troops toward Lithuania, and Japan wanted to know what was going on. Poles, both Christian and Jewish, were pouring into the country, fearing reprisals by both groups. When the Soviets moved into Lithuania in 1940, the refugees panicked, knowing they had to find a way to leave. 

Sign inside the front door

But where to? Palestine was controlled by the British, and they had closed borders, and the US, too, refused to accept war immigrants. Somehow, groups of them wound up in front of the Consul, begging for visas. Chiune, his wife Yukiko, and even their oldest son realized they had a moral obligation to help. But, how? 

Sugihara, his family and his secretary, Wolfgang Gudze

It’s all very complicated, but the Dutch colony, Curaçao, could be reached without a visa, and from there, it would be easier to immigrate—to Japan, Palestine, the US, Shanghai, etc. Sugihara received permission to write a certain number of transit visas to Curaçao. When those were gone, he asked his government’s permission to write more. Told no, he did it anyway. 

In just six days, he wrote over 2,000 transit visas. Because some of them were for families, it’s estimated he saved over 6,000 lives. Even as he and his family were forced to leave, he was handing out transit visas. 

Transit visa

There’s a lot to the story, and I suggest you look for more info—there are documentaries, fictional accounts (Night Angels), and a 2015 movie, “Persona Non Grata.” 

BUT—that’s not the only reason I’m telling you this. Ted and I visited the Sugihara House, knowing only that he had saved many people from the Nazis and the Soviets. Ramūnas, the director, suggested we watch a short film about Sugihara’s work. Then he showed us around the ground-floor living quarters. All through the museum there are tiny hand signs that signal that a exhibit is interactive. We read about how his father wanted him to be a doctor, and kicked him out when he refused. We learned that he was a Samurai through his mother’s lineage. We “met” his second wife, Kikuyo, a poet in her own right. 

The living room. Each of the framed photos opened to offer more information.

Next door was the “war room’’ with videos and recordings of what was leading up to the war. 

As we walked down the stairs to the Consul offices, we saw actual photos of some of those he helped, and heard their names. 

Some of those saved

In a side room, we read stories of Lithuanians who tried to help Jews. In Sugihara’s office, we saw what a transit visa looked like, and across the hall, we could have our photo put on one. 

My photo on a facsimile transit visa

Ted at Sugihara's desk

Along a second stairwell we saw photos of descendants of those he saved, and heard recordings of them saying their own names and the names of their ancestors saved. 

Descendants of the survivors

All this, because in a most un-Japanese manner, Chiune Sugihara broke the rules—the LAW—and did the humane thing. We all know about Schindler, but the name Sugihara has not been as widely acclaimed. 

This is a story of courage, of doing the right thing, no matter the consequences. And I applaud this small group of four who make sure we know about it: Ramūnas; and Jurgita, the CEO; Rokas, the museum curator; and Jenny, who has designed an audio tour leading the way from the hotel to the Consul, so you can learn what the refugees felt. They’re designing programs for school children to learn about this remarkable man and the time in history, doing all they can to keep this story and this museum alive. And they all made us feel welcome and at home. 

With Jurgita and Ramūnas

I am in awe of Chiune and Kikuyo Sugihara. And I’m also in awe of Ramūnas, Jurgita, Rokas, and Jenny. You can learn more on Facebook and Instagram. The Sugihara House.

A plaque at the Kaunas train station

The Sugiharas in later years