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serenakbelieves · 8 years ago

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Blog Tour: Damnable Grace by Tillie Cole

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EVEN THE BROKEN, THROUGH LOVE, CAN FIND GRACE...Secrets never stay hidden.The burden of guilt never lifts from the heart.Born and raised in The Order of David, Sister Phebe knows nothing but cult life. Head of the Sacred Sisters of New Zion, Phebe was groomed from childhood for one purpose: to seduce. Prized as a harlot, as a New Zion whore, Phebe is taken from the doomed cult by Meister, the notorious leader of the Aryan Brotherhood. Taken as his possession. Taken to be the woman who will obey his every sexual demand. Under his heavy hand, Phebe finds herself in a place much worse than she could ever have imagined... with absolutely no one to help. And no glimpse of hope. Xavier ‘AK’ Deyes is content with his life as Sergeant-At-Arms of the Hades Hangmen. Leader of the infamous ‘Psycho Trio’ and ex-special ops sniper, AK knows how to fight. Experienced in warfare and schooled in military operations, AK is vital to the Hangmen. When his Vice President needs help retrieving his missing sister-in-law, Phebe, from a Klan-funded trafficking ring, AK volunteers to go in. AK remembers the redhead from New Zion. Remembers everything about her from the single time they met—her red hair, blue eyes and freckled face. But when he finds her, heavily drugged and under Meister’s control, her sorry condition causes him to remember more than the beautiful woman he once tied to a tree. Saving Phebe forces hidden demons from his past to return. A past he can never move on from, no matter how hard he tries.As AK fights to help Phebe, and in turn she strives to help him, they realize their secret sins will never leave them alone. Kindred broken souls, they realize the only way they can be rid of their ghosts is to face them together and try to find peace.Despair soon turns to hope, and damaged hearts soon start to heal. But when their deep, painful scars resurface, becoming too much to bear, the time comes when they must make a heavy choice: stay forever damned; or together, find grace.Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for age 18 and over.

“Well?” Ky asked.Tanner ran his hand over his head. The brother hadn’t attended one of our cookouts or slutfests in weeks. Not that he ever entertained himself with sluts—still too hard for his piece of pussy down in Mexico. He’d been busy trying to track down Meister. Unlike most of the white-power shit Tanner and Tank grew up with, this Meister was untraceable and off the grid. As much of a computer whizz kid as Tanner was, Meister was proving to be one slippery fucking snake to pin down.“Gotta be honest, I didn’t think I was anywhere close to finding anything on this prick.” Tanner nodded toward Tank. “We knew of him, of course. I knew he had dealings with my father and uncle, just never met him myself. He’s Aryan Brotherhood, but works closely with the Klan. And there’s nothing on him. No email traces, no invoices, no texts. Nothing.”I gritted my teeth and glanced at Styx, who was listening closely. Ky wasn’t originally gonna tell the prez about the plan to get Phebe, because of his fucking wedding, but that didn’t last long. Styx knew something was up with his VP. He read him like I read Flame and Vike. So Ky fessed up, and Styx was all for the plan. He’d had to push his wedding back by a month anyhow to get the pastor Mae wanted to conduct the ceremony, so he had time to kill.“But you found something?” Ky translated as Styx signed.Tanner sighed, the black circles around his eyes showing how hard the brother had been working. “I got something.” He shook his head, and my blood ran cold. I knew whatever he had found wasn’t good.Tanner opened the file in front of him and threw a photograph toward the prez. Styx looked at it, then gave it to Ky. “Some middle-of-nowhere ghost town?”Ky passed the picture around. Vike handed it to me, and I studied it. It was an aerial shot, and the picture was grainy, but from what I could make out, it was just a huge piece of land scattered with decrepit old buildings.I passed the picture along. “Fucker owns this?”Tanner faced me. “Yeah, or at least his father did. He’s dead now, but the deeds are still in his father’s name. Been in the family for decades. Took me a while to trace it.” He shook his head. “Meister is notorious among the Klan. Right, Tank?”“Yeah,” Tank agreed. “Never met him either, but we’d all heard of him. Prick has been mobilizing for years for the race war they think is coming. Real serious, Oklahoma-City-bomb shit. From what we’ve heard, the guy has a one-track mind when it comes to advancing the white race. You think Hitler was fucked up? Well, imagine if he had a kid who was one built motherfucker, with a fucking carbon copy of his psycho mind; and you’ve got Meister. Fucker ain’t even German. Just wishes he was, spouting German phrases around like he’s born and bred Berlin. Delusional asshole.”“This ain’t gonna be easy,” Tanner finished, looking at me, Vike, Flame, Hush and Cowboy. It was the five of us who had agreed to go looking for Phebe. Hush and Cowboy nodded at me to let me know they were still in.“So he’s in this ghost town?” Ky asked, translating Styx’s sign language again. “If so, we’ll all just go in and get him, make the fucker talk and tell us where he’s got Phebe.”Tanner sat forward. “He ain’t just living in the ghost town or hiding out. That’s where he has his enterprise.”“Enterprise?” Ky echoed. It was his own question this time.Tanner nodded. “From what I can tell, it’s a fucking brothel. Members of the Aryan Brotherhood, Klan, or Klan sympathizers, can go there for a night or a few days at a time.” Tank shifted uncomfortably next to him. “Ain’t sure, but I’m thinking it ain’t just getting your dick sucked and fucked. It’ll be real fucked-up shit. If Meister’s reputation is anything to go by, we would be walking into an organized, armed hellhole.” Tanner’s eyes darkened. “I get the Klan has a reputation for being full of backward rednecks. I ain’t gonna lie—growing up, most of my father’s cronies were that way. Thick as fuck and couldn’t do shit without screwing it up. Skinheads, lower-ranked soldiers, you know?”“But there were some members that weren’t,” Tank continued. He cast an embarrassed glance at Tanner. “We weren’t, for starters.”Tanner nodded. “It’s not the norm, but some of us were good. Smart, strong fighters, or just outright fucking psychos. The skinheads and rednecks are the foot soldiers. The likes of us, the likes of Meister, are the fucking SS. The planners, leaders, the generals—the ones who believe in the cause so much that they’re fucking lethal with what they’ll do, what they’re capable of. Meister is true Aryan Brotherhood; he’s preparing for war. He’s the real fucking deal.”“And now he’s in our neck of the woods to stir up shit?” I asked.Tanner nodded. “Comes from northern Texas. Never moved our way before. But the Klan are building day by day, joining forces with other white supremacist gangs—like the Brotherhood—and with the shit that’s on the news twenty-four-seven, blacks and whites at each others throats, he’s moved to the headquarters.” The brother’s jaw clenched. “To my father and uncle, who’ll be protecting him from being found out by the feds.” He sighed and ran his hand down his face. “From what I can figure out, this ghost-town brothel of his has only existed in the last year or so. He’s looking to fund something.”“They ain’t dealing guns?” Cowboy drawled. “I thought that’s what Rider said the contract with the cult was for?”“Rider was sure it was guns. At least it was when he was dealing with the Klan—it was all about arms. The Klan was selling them on and taking a cut.”“His fucking twin,” Hush spat. “He changed the arrangement, didn’t he? When Rider was locked up in cult prison?”“Think so,” Tanner said after a few seconds of silence.“Then what the fuck are they dealing? What was Judah giving them if not Israeli guns?”“Women.”

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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#blogger #tillie cole #amreading #booknerd #bookworm #oneclick #hadeshangmen #romance #book review #bookstagram

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halasaudio · 7 years ago

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Deconstruction & Love or: Weirdos

Ayelet Lerman is one of the most active individuals within the Israeli improv scene. In the past two years I have seen her almost exclusively play viola in such improv session (whether in group or solo performances), making me assume that her entire practice can be encompassed by this raw statistic.

Lerman discovered the need to express her “wild side”, as she terms it, but found herself in disagreement with the “taming circus animals” attitude of classical music didacticism. However, in front of me sat a calm, level headed and thoughtful individual who seemed drawn more towards eastern philosophy in her spiritual practice and life trajectory. But I soon discover that this too, like my earlier assumption, is merely a diminution of who Ayelet Lerman really is.

Her career in art took Lerman through many forms of expression including installation, curation and currently even film studies, an art form Lerman has loved for many years and has finally felt ready to tackle. So indeed, Lerman has a true creative side where she commits to ideas, but when it comes to music, or specifically viola playing, she cannot pin the notion of composition onto her practice. She approaches viola playing as a means for immediate release of ideas – a spontaneous activity, in which the viola is treated like an appendage of Lerman’s body and not an exterior tool. She never prepares these iterations, rather simply has spontaneous conversations with herself or others, but conversations in which she also recognizes her very distinct style of playing and voice, which she simply sums up thus: “I am very much Ayelet on the viola”!

Individualistic as she is in her stance and artistic voice, Lerman is still, and very much a woman. And it is actually from this standpoint that we begin our interview, where I confront Lerman with questions regarding gender roles within experimental music, and at large. Lerman, who obviously dedicates much thought to these issues, retorts almost immediately: “It’s a question of language first and foremost”. To Lerman the verbal and non-verbal language we practice in society at large and in Israel in particular are extremely masculine. It is a precursor to the very male-oriented thought processes we undergo as a society. According to her, this language is slowly changing, but it’s a matter of time and probably hard work until the general populous will get used to a new type of language. Lerman is a modern feminist; hence her stance does not seek to obliterate manhood, but simply allow a separate narrative. However, like a true thinker that does not shy away from inconvenient truths, Lerman immediately plays devil’s advocate and recognizes for us a “female state” in art: less individualistic, and more prone towards collaboration. However, questioning the place of women in experimentalism brings Lerman and myself back to the notion of deconstructing the “language” of society at large and the microcosm of this idea infiltrating experimental practices as well. But, and this is a huge but, Lerman also recognizes clear feminine traits within artistic creation. For instance, Lerman speaks of her attitude towards improv, which she claims is “a woman’s attitude towards improv”. This attitude consists of noticing the minute detail, and more so – treat this minute detail, this peripheral material at times, with love – in short: to attach oneself through love. This is a concept, feminine or not, that throws Lerman almost seamlessly into her day-to-day life where she practices the aforementioned notions through meditation. In meditation, Lerman tells us, one allows herself to be an empty vessel. And it is from within this same stance that Lerman would like to approach improvisation.

Indeed, like many of our past guests, Lerman too recognizes the toll this might take of the audience, or at the very least require of them a similar meditational mode, or awareness. But regardless of what it exactly requires of the audience, it no doubt requires it in the form of some “work”, and thus immediately sets this practice apart from most classical music, or indeed most music out there. However, according to Lerman, behind this “work” lays some hidden meaning, which is the reasoning at the base of the entire practice. Lerman clarifies – this is not a search for a-priori meaning, but rather the creation of a “state of being”, which in itself creates meaning, albeit subjective. The improv session can work or not, it can be hailed or booed, it can create wonderful moving sounds or horrific noises; regardless, if an alternative state of things was introduced, this in itself is the goal. This conclusion takes Lerman full circle and back to a possible conciliation with classical music. As even in fixed forms (through-composed music, films, etc) there is improv: “A film might be fully scripted, but when it is shot, there is usually more improv employed during the scenes than adherence to the written script. And this example can be transposed to almost any fixed format art form: there is always a commingling of strict materials vis-a-vis improvisation. And so, through a microscopic view, Lerman unfolds a supposed clarity as bustling with underlying chaos. And this, of course, closes the circle opened when discussing questions of gender and language. Here too, Lerman exemplifies the holism of her stance to life and music, and more so, how effortlessly it comes to her.

The local experimental and improv scene open up a fascinating discussion that takes us through topics that in many ways summarise Lerman’s approach. Her point of departure is the topic of funding. Lerman recognizes that which many of us have –namely the fact that arts funding is almost non-existent in Israel. Noting that the usual stance of experimenters is that of individualistic renegades who put an emphasis on the individual persona, raises the question whether this stance is not aided by the aforementioned lack of funding? In fact, does it not create a default stance that sets the experimenter opposite the “classical” stance? Israel, continues Lerman, is a society of conformists – this can be felt in every aspect of society, and is especially felt to women. Lerman recognizes in herself the innate seed of antagonism, which in the face of this aforementioned conformity can sometimes be expressed with rage in her music. It’s as if she was saying: “you all want to conform to the same ideas, then I will present you with ideas that you simply don’t understand”. It is an antagonistic approach, teeming with artistic negativism, and at least to some extent exemplifies to Lerman why it is so hard for lay-audiences to listen to experimental music at large and in Israel in particular. It takes quite a knowing audience to be able to treat antagonism with tolerance or respect, not to mention love. “In a society where the nature of discussion (even within the family unit) is so violent, it is not at all surprising to find an active underground”, says Lerman. This underground immediately acts as a refuge for all of those proponents of society who are lacking some vital characteristics allowing them to express their voice within “normative” societal terms. And the expressions of this on the experimental stage can be wide and varied: perhaps one person proposes a language devoid of rage, perhaps another presents a language with exaggerated rage. But the commonality is that all of these people are “allowed” to simply be for a while, and express a voice that society at large does not yet know how to hear, or understand. Lerman continues and claims that in a society where an artist could find her or himself silenced by the government and authorities (and thus legitimise a media and public witch hunt with outcomes unknown), it is not surprising to see experimental artists express their voice with more passion, and gut felt works.

As ever, Lerman’s holistic approach manages to make sense of what seems like a blunder, and leads her to ask whether it’s not the experimental and underground artist’s task to help society find its boundaries? And indeed – isn’t an experimental artist, who finds herself hounded by police and media due to an artistic expression, an important precursor allowing society a glimpse at their future? Indeed, an immense role fulfilling an important, somewhat thankless, service to society. This, concludes Lerman, is always very easy to forget, as the performances themselves are usually to small publics, and more often than not garner ambivalent and tepid responses. But the role is the same regardless, and at least for Lerman, manages to create a vibrant contrast to the ideas of Zionism. Zionism’s main tenet recognizes a new nation with a new culture claiming a supposed wilderness. As romantic is this ideal seems, it is simply not true! Israel as a nation is based on a series of subsets of immigrants from different cultures – each with their own language or dialect, foods and cultural affiliations. The new invented culture for Israel perhaps represented an ethos of its time, but it in no way represents a majority of the country’s voices today (nor did it ever), and these cracks are slowly starting to show. The main crack has of course to do with this supposed wilderness, which in time will become the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and a contentious point for those still claiming that the country indeed was a wilderness when settled. Over the backdrop of this supposed void, bustle several cultures fighting for their existence, not accepting the hegemony, and asking whether things really are the way they are presented. The experimental scene, claims Lerman, is in itself antagonistic to the idea of a void, any form of stasis, or non-organic culture.

Therefore, it is not surprising to discover that for Lerman, experimentalism is, in fact, an act of deconstruction. What is surprising is a fleeting recognition that this practice, negating any act of stasis, is in itself a static act. This state of being might allow a negativist expression, yet still, as an act of being it is always one and the same. With this realisation, and after having talked about western vs. eastern culture, I suddenly realise that none of these cultures can encompass experimentalism fully. It is true that western culture puts the individual at the forefront, but this individuality must conform to norms and hence cannot accept the renegade approach. Eastern culture, on the other hand, begs to obliterate the individual altogether and thus creates a form of existence that does not require expression; again, nothing the renegade approach can dwell within. And so, bound to no state, culture, border or ism, experimentalism is likened to an island that, by default, is deemed for cultural loneliness. It brings to mind a beautiful story that Lerman chose to end our broadcast with, taking us back to her days as a classical viola student in Bologna. As she was setting herself up in the city, Lerman found herself in a circumstance requiring her to sleep in the streets for a few nights. Lerman describes how the vibrant city, its streets teeming with young students, suddenly became the city of street-dwellers. Her main recollection is of the many unique characters she met during those nights, predominantly men – all of whom reminded her very much of the experimental type she has by now grown accustomed to: “They were like a bunch of weirdoes at the edge of society, who couldn’t find an outlet of self expression anywhere else but there”.

״פורטריט״ עם הקטע הראשון מתוך הדיסק החדש של איילת לרמן, “7 STEPS”

״קורוס נשות דימונה״

עבודות מיתרים ומיצבים אקוסטים:

פינאלה בחזותי: ״פליטת נפש״

מיצב ברחוב יפו: ״אטלס עכביש״

מיצב במעמותה: ״צעצוע״

תערוכת יחיד של מיצבים במעמותה: ״יותר מידי דיבור על חלל״

פרפורמנס: ״מותר להציץ״

#experimental israel

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halas1 · 7 years ago

Audio

Ayelet Lerman - Experimental Israel

Deconstruction & Love or: Weirdos

Our interview quickly disclosed how wrong I was, as I discovered that Lerman represents an experimental type we have almost but grown accustomed to: Her bio discloses a child violinist (later to be replaced with viola) who took an unruly stance towards classical music, and this although she will continue following that same classical trajectory for years to come. Lerman discovered the need to express her “wild side”, as she terms it, but found herself in disagreement with the “taming circus animals” attitude of classical music didacticism. However, in front of me sat a calm, level headed and thoughtful individual who seemed drawn more towards eastern philosophy in her spiritual practice and life trajectory. But I soon discover that this too, like my earlier assumption, is merely a diminution of who Ayelet Lerman really is.

״פורטריט״ עם הקטע הראשון מתוך הדיסק החדש של איילת לרמן, “7 STEPS”

״קורוס נשות דימונה״

עבודות מיתרים ומיצבים אקוסטים:

פינאלה בחזותי: ״פליטת נפש״

מיצב ברחוב יפו: ״אטלס עכביש״

מיצב במעמותה: ״צעצוע״

תערוכת יחיד של מיצבים במעמותה: ״יותר מידי דיבור על חלל״

פרפורמנס: ״מותר להציץ״

#Ayelet Lerman #Experimental Israel #Ophir Ilzetzki #viola #Free Improvisation

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wemustbearwitness-blog · 7 years ago

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Day 1 and 2: Krakow, Poland on Yom Kippur

Well friends, I have yet again found myself traveling to Europe to learn about the Holocaust. Combined Jewish Philanthropies of Boston and the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Foundation have given be the incredible opportunity to come to Poland for a 3 day conference at Auschwitz-Birkenau entitled, Auschwitz-- History, Memory and Responsibility. In order to get the most out of my trip, I opted to stay a few days in Krakow on my own to see the city.

I left for Krakow on Thursday night at 9:45pm to travel to Zurich where I had a short layover before flying to Krakow. Unfortunately, I am suffering from a cold so the trip was somewhat difficult. I had a lot of pain in my ear because of the altitude and sinus pressure so when I was in the Zurich airport I had to find a pharmacy and buy a decongestant. Luckily, I was successful and had it for the flight to Krakow. Regardless, I landed in Krakow with little ability to hear out of my right ear. Additionally, the cell phone service that I had organized the day before wasn’t working. Seeing as my plan was to UBER to my Air BnB, I was in a bit of a situation. Once I was able to find my bag, I exchanged about $100 UDS for Polish Zlote. That my friends, was my first mistake. What I didn’t know then but I know now is that 3 Zlote is equal to about 1USD and most things in Poland are extremely inexpensive. Generally, the cost of living is much less here than it is in the states, so I ended up with way too much cash. For example, my bus ticket to Auschwitz (an hour and a half trip) is going to cost 10 zlote which is about $3. My pastry from a bakery was $0.83. My hot chocolate with a shot of honey vodka was the equivalent of $4. Another fun fact I learned is that alcohol in Krakow is super inexpensive so people come here often for Bachelor and Bachelorette parties. Anyway, back to the trip. So I was able to log into the wifi at Krakow airport and call an UBER and eventually flag that UBER down (which took awhile) once my wifi disconnected as I exited the airport. I eventually arrive at my AirBnB which is this super nice flat on Monte Cassino street right next to the River Wisla (pronounced Visla) and caddy-corner from the Zamek Królewski na Wawelu (the Castle of Krakow).

The question you may or may not yet have asked yourself is what did you do about your cell service? Well, what does any capable young woman do when she’s in a pickle? ...She calls her mommy. Dr. Robin came to the rescue via FaceTime to navigate at&t and solve the problem. As it turns out, the fellow who was supposed to set up my international calling plan never actually set it up. Although he did have no problem reminding how unsafe it was as a young woman to be traveling alone in Europe. I mean, common, haven’t I seen the movie Taken?! After arriving at my AirBnB I met my fabulous host Nina who is a photography student here in Krakow. She is Polish and speaks fantastic English. I didn’t have much time to settle in because I RSVPd to a before the fast dinner at the Krakow JCC.

The Krakow JCC is right in the heart of the Old Jewish Quarter in Krakow. The area is called Kazimierz. Interestingly, Kazimierz used to be its own town separate from Krakow divided from Krakow via the Vistula River but it was filled in at some point and now Kazimierz is just considered a neighborhood. So the Old Jewish Quarter infrastructure in Krakow largely wasn’t destroyed by the war or by communist rule, despite the horrible destruction of the life that was once inside the neighborhood. All of the Synagogues, of which there are at least seven, are all still standing. In many, the arcs and bemahs were pillaged by the Nazis, but the artwork on the walls (old, faded Jewish scripture) and the building structure are still in tact. On some of the doorposts, I am told, you can still see the outline of where the Mezuzot once hung (I looked for this marking on some buildings and did not see it). Interestingly today, the Old Jewish Quarter is known for its hip restaurants and cafes aside from its rich history. The Krakow JCC welcomed me in for a pre fast meal and Yom Kippur Services. When I arrived at the JCC, I saw a part of what is a vibrant Jewish community in Krakow. There’s two myths I am here to bust. 1) Poland is anti-Semetic, 2) Poland is unsafe for Jews. Both, from both my experience and the testimony of Jews living in the Old Jewish Quarter who daven there regularly, are untrue. I will elaborate more on this later. Dinner was a delicious meal of stuffed red peppers, chicken, hummus, salads, fruit, vegetables, and more. The room was filled with families, children, young adults, college students, elderly and Holocaust survivors. There were Americans, Poles, Israelis and more. It was difficult to find a place to sit. The Krakow JCC was started 8 years ago and was initially funded by Prince Charles of Wales and its mission is to bring Jewish life back to Krakow. They have since been quite successful. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Polish people were free to practice religion once again. Not all of Soviet Rule was anti-Judaism but there were periods when freedom of religion was tolerated, and times when it was not. As a result, many survivors after the war never told their families that they were Jewish and it was not until they died or after that some Polish people realized they had Jewish heritage. As a result, you have a lot of parents here who grew up with no Jewish identity who want their children to explore Judaism once realizing their true connection. The Krakow JCC provides all kinds of community engagement including a Jewish preschool, a senior club, student club, JCC choir, a gym, yoga classes, Israeli dance classes, and more. Just tomorrow, they will build their sukkah with the community from scratch (it’s BYOT-- bring your own tools). The senior club is especially cool I think. The JCC will pick up 15-20 seniors everyday who wish to come and spend the day at the JCC. They will then provide them with kosher meals and a space to spend time together throughout the day. They even have access to their own kitchen should they wish to cook themselves. Many of these seniors include Holocaust survivors who still live in Krakow. The JCC is connected to two active Synagogues in Krakow. One is the Krakow Progressive Synagogue (a Reform-like shul) and another is the Isaak Synagogue which is Orthodox and connected to Chabad. I prayed in the Isaak Synagogue on Friday night and throughout Saturday. The Isaak Synagogue was built in 1644 and founded by a man named Izaak Jakubowicz.

The tale they say about the synagogue goes as follows: "The founder of the synagogue is the hero of a well-known legend deriving from the Tales of 1001 Nights. Ayzik Jakubowicz, a pious but poor Jew, dreamed that there was treasure hidden under the old bridge in Prague. Without delay, he made his way there. On arrival, it turned out the bridge was guarded by a squad of soldiers and that digging was out of the question. Ayzik told the officer about his dream, promising him half of the booty. The officer retorted, "Only fools like Polish Jews can possibly believe in dreams. For several nights now I have been dreaming that in the Jewish town of Kazimierz there is hidden treasure in the oven of the home of the poor Jew Ayzik Jakubowicz. Do you think I am so stupid as to go all the way to Cracow and look for the house of this Isaac the son of Jacob?". Ayzik returned home immediately, took the oven apart, found the treasure and became rich. After this it was said: 'There are some things which you can look for the world over, only to find them in your own home. Before you realise this, however, you very often have to go on along journey and search far and wide.'"

Who knows if the tale is true, but it’s a nice story that the tour guides of the Old Jewish Quarter love to tell. The interior walls are embellished with painted prayers, visible after conservation removed covering layers of paint. The vaulted ceiling is embellished with baroque plasterwork wreaths and garlands. The ceiling is so high that long wires hang down to make the lights low enough to be effective. The building is cold, as if there is no heat. I and others wore my coat the entire time. The synagogue is run in a very traditional Orthodox fashion. The mehitzah was so high that you could not see the bemah at all or anything beyond the women’s section. The Chabad Rabbi davened so quickly and in such a mumbled fashion that it was extremely difficult to follow along. It was as traditionally Ashkenazi as a synagogue could be. While a deeply educational experience, it was not an extremely spiritual one. The melody of the cantor though was so beautiful and loud that his voice echoed through the walls of the synagogue. You could hear the prayer from the outside and throughout the Jewish Quarter. It was a surreal experience to daven, once again, in a synagogue pillaged by the Nazis; a synagogue who’s torah scrolls were burned by the Nazis. A synagogue that served as many other venues before it was once again restored to the Jewish community in 1989. Poland, the most vibrantly Jewish country before the Holocaust, is now re-rooting in Kazimierz. It’s a beautiful thing.

After almost falling asleep in Friday night services because I was so tired, I walked home and went to sleep. The next morning, I arrived at services around 10pm for Yom Kippur Davening at the Issak Synagogue. During Yiskor, I walked over to the Progressive Synagogue with Jonathan Ornstein (the head of the JCC in Krakow), his wife Kasha, and Jenny (the current fellow at the JCC in Krakow). As a side note, Jenny is from Newton, MA (just a 15 minute ride from BU) and went to Shechter Day School in MA. Her father is a Harvard Professor and she just graduated from Yale. She is currently spending a year in Krakow volunteering with the JCC while they pay for her housing and a stipend for working here. The Progressive Synagogue is a somewhat work in progress. It is housed at the Tempel Synagogue dating back to 1862. The Progressive Service is so progressive it exceeded a typical reform service. There were about four people attending for Yom Kippur. It seems that a lot of the Jewish community in Krakow is still looking for a suitable prayer option. There’s currently two extremes-- the Chabad synagogue where you need an advanced rabbinic degree to understand or the Progressive synagogue where most of the service is in English. Keep in mind that the Rabbi at the Progressive synagogue was a visiting rabbinic leader so it is possible that the services change depending on who is leading. I believe that the Progressive synagogue is currently looking to hire a full time Rabbi.

After davening, Jenny and I walked around Krakow a bit seeing the famous town square and the Zamek Królewski na Wawelu. We didn't enter the Castle because it was Yom Kippur and didn’t want to buy a ticket but we did walk around the grounds and entered the Wawel Cathedral (I understand the irony). The cathedral was completed in the 11th century and is the Polish national sanctuary. It traditionally has served as coronation site of the Polish monarchs as well as the Cathedral of the Archdiocese of Kraków. The current, Gothic cathedral (the one I saw) is the third on this site: the first was constructed and destroyed in the 11th century; the second one, constructed in the 12th century, was destroyed by a fire in 1305. The construction of the current one began in the 14th century on the orders of bishop Nanker. The Castle itself is pretty cool because each time the city of Krakow was conquered a new wing has been added. The oldest wing dates back to Medieval times. There is one, of course, that was built by the Nazis. Jonathan’s wife, Kasha, even lived in that wing at one point because she had an old boyfriend who’s grandfather worked there and so he inherited the apartment. To learn more about the history of the Castle, read the short history section of the Wikipedia page.

After our walk, we both went back to take a nap before davening again before break fast. Jenny invited me to break fast with her, Jonathan, Kasha, and others at this amazing pizza place called Pizza Garden. It’s a brick oven pizzeria started by a New Yorker in Poland. It’s some of the best Pizza I’ve had. Jonathan helped put them on the map when he realized how fantastic they were and earned himself his own pizza which was on the menu for some time entitled: the Jonathan. They were packed to the brim but luckily we got a table. After Jonathan kindly paid for all of us at break fast, Jenny and I parted ways with the group and went for some hot chocolate. It’s currently 45 degrees outside in Krakow. We were recommended this fantastic little cafe and bar in Kazimierz with fantastic hot chocolate of all different kinds. I got hot chocolate with honey vodka in it. The hot chocolate here is thick like melted chocolate bars in a cup. It was delicious and the atmosphere at the place was very cozy. There was almost all Polish people in it. I noticed that Kazimierz has fewer tourists than the city center although you can catch tours around the Old Jewish Quarter during the day time.

Tomorrow I am doing a 2 hour free walking tour around the city before heading over to Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Site around 4pm.

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serenakbelieves · 8 years ago

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Excerpt Reveal! Damnable Grace by Tillie Cole

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