Last day in Poland

Elie Schramm blog

Talk about a rollercoaster. Not the six flags kind -- the emotional kind. In one day, we went from possibly the saddest we've been on this trip to bursting with excitement in anticipation of our flight to Israel, which is in just a few short hours from when I am writing this. 

We started off the day with a trip to the Yeshivat Chachmei Lublin. Not only is it a magnificent building and place of learning, but it had a significant impact on recent Jewish history. This yeshiva had a dormitory, kosher meal plan, challenging classes, and highly selective admissions. Rabbi Meir Shapiro, who was the Rosh Yeshiva and driving force behind its creation, had the revolutionary idea to build a school for advanced torah study that supported its students like colleges today do. Most yeshivas today follow the example set by Rabbi Shapiro in Lublin. 

At the yeshiva this morning, which is currently being restored, Rachel Siegel and I gave a drasha on the introduction to Rabbi Shapiro's book: Ohr Hameir. Max Glauben complimented us and said he was very moved to see Torah brought back to these hallowed walls by us youth. So at this point, I am feeling pretty good. 

Next stop: Majdanek. 

Leading up to today, the rumor had been that Majdanek is the hardest part of the trip. For one thing, it is an awful death camp that is mostly intact, to the point that the tagline has surfaced that it could become operational in six hours. The factuality of the claim aside, you get the picture. Add in the fact that Max lost his whole family here and you have the makings of a very taxing day. After visiting Majdanek today, I am not sure if it is in fact "worse" than Auschwitz or any other place we went to, but there is no doubt that it was very difficult to see. 

About half the people, including myself, wore sunglasses, not so much because it was bright--on the contrary: it was quite cloudy and most of the snow had melted--instead, perhaps to hide the tears and red eyes. However, no amount of tinted glass masked the anguished sobs when we listened to Rabbi Tannenbaum in the gas chamber, said Keil Malei for Max's family, heard Rose's story of the grandparents she never got to know because they perished in Majdanek, saw 50,000 shoes and the crematorium, and gazed upon the 70 tons of ashes of our brethren in the mausoleum. 

Following all this grief, though, came the unity of singing Adon Olam, Ledor Vador, and Hatikva arm in arm, accompanied by the beautiful sounds of teens playing guitars and violins. 

The last day in Poland has come to a close. I'm very much looking forward to Israel--since for all practical purposes, it will be my first time going--but while I am glad that the Poland segment is over, I am nonetheless very glad that I experienced it. To quote the words of Rabbi Brody after Mincha and before boarding the buses, "Let's get the hell out of this hell!" 

Our homeland beckons.