Hi everyone,
 
Thank you so much for tuning into the latest post about my adventure this summer in Eastern Europe. After 4 full weeks of intensive Yiddish study, tomorrow, I will be attending my final classes at the Vilnius Yiddish Institute – and following classes tomorrow, I will graduate from the program.  These past four weeks have flown by before my eyes, and I cannot even begin to explain how much I have learned.  My life has been forever impacted by this program and this summer, and I’m still digesting the idea that I will be returning to the USA on Saturday (Don’t worry Mom and Dad – I’m
excited to see you!).

 At the institute, I have made great friends that I hope I will keep in touch with after the program.  My group of friends called ourselves the “Lunch Bunch” because every day after classes we’d have lunch together.  I spent so much time with this group of people and I want to thank each of them individually for shaping this program and this trip for me.  I will miss them all when I return to the US, but I know that these memories we have had together will last far beyond the conclusion of this program.

This week has had several highlights for me – but in this post I am going to share two of them with you.  And to begin, I would like to say that without the guidance and leadership of Fania Brantsovsky, former Vilna ghetto prisoner and partisan fighter in the Rūdninkai forest– and the woman now serving as the librarian of the Vilnius Yiddish Institute, none of these experiences would have happened.  This amazing lady has touched my life permanently and the moments that I have shared with her have inspired me to pursue things that I only used to dream about. In this post,  I will go into further detail about Fania’s life, both in the forest and in the ghetto – a life story that is so important, I am determined for people to know about it.

This past Sunday, Fania took our group from the Vilnius Yiddish Institute to three places: the great Jewish cemetery right outside of Vilnius, the Ponarai forest and shooting site, and lastly, her former partisan base in the Rūdninkai forest. It was an amazing day.

I really enjoyed walking through cemetery.  As bleak and depressing as walking through a cemetery sounds, over this trip I’ve discovered how peaceful I find it to walk through a Jewish cemetery
and see the names of people who used to be alive.  What I find special about cemeteries, especially Jewish ones in Eastern Europe, is that most of the people buried in these areas died of natural
causes.  In visiting a place like Vilna, where over 70,000 were killed by brutal murder and never a given a proper burial, I really enjoyed walking with Fania through the Jewish cemetery,
celebrating the lives of those who were spared the struggle.

Next, our group was driven to the Ponarai (in Yiddish, Ponar) forest in Lithuania.  In this forest, Fania lead us on the path that thousands of Jewish people followed, forcibly pushed by the Nazis to muddy pits – pits where they were shot, killed, and burned.  I probably could not have visited this site without Fania.  Nearly all of Fania’s family was killed in this location, but she remained neither distraught nor depressed while showing it to us.  She led us in a discussion about Ponar and held herself together with dignity and grace.  Looking at the pits and imagining how many people were once killed there was very painful.  For a moment, I felt my heart filling with hate and anger – how could the Nazis do this? Where was the humanity?  But Fania answered that question easily
–there was none.  Fania’s ability to continually lead groups through the Ponar killing site is just one small example of how brave she is.  Last week, she led President Shimon Peres of Israel and President Dalia Grybauskaitė of Lithuania through this forest, where both leaders put of reefs on the
memorial, commemorating the tragic loss.  Fania stood with them, as she is one of the last living survivors of the Vilna ghetto still able to stand on her own two feet.

After our trip to the Ponarai forest, our bus drove us most of the way to our next destination: Fania’s partisan fort in the Rūdninkai forest. As our bus entered the forest, nearly 5 minutes afterwards, our bus had to stop due to a giant fallen tree that hand landed in the middle of the road –blocking all possible traffic.  The bus driver refused to drive any further so our group had to decide, would we walk the rest of the way to the partisan base, or should we turn around.  Well, let me say, the 92 year old Holocaust survivor quickly made that decision for us: we would walk.  I doubt she even considered any other options.

 First of all, let me tell you that this walk (more like a hike) for the average athletic person, I’d say is tough. Nearly every 20 yards, there was a fallen tree on the road – sometimes more than one tree in a large pile – and we climbed over/under each and every one.  Watching Fania hike through this terrain was unreal.  There were points where she would crawl on all fours under a tree just to
pass.  There were two moments when she actually fell over on this walk (I nearly had a heart attack watching), and she got right back up and kept going.  She didn’t even take a break.   I cannot even begin to explain my amazement at this.  I was not in the presence of any ordinary 92 year old in this hike – I was in the presence of a fighter.

One of the most thrilling moments of this experience was when we reached the partisan base in the forest.  After nearly an hour of intense  walking/climbing/crawling, I was at the head of the group scanning our surroundings, looking for any sign of a partisan base. Suddenly, to my left, I
saw it.  I sprinted through the forest and jumped for joy (literally) as I had found the bunkers where Fania and her partisan comrades lived. I had found the wooden fortresses where they sheltered themselves and survived. I shouted over to the rest of the group telling them that we had made it. We had made it to the base.

Seeing the partisan bunkers was amazing.  For an hour at the base, Fania explained to our group her experience serving as a Red Army Jewish partisan in the forest.  In the forest, Fania’s life and story of survival was by no means easy – every day was a battle.  The leader of her partisan battalion was a brave man named Abba Kovner.  A leader in the Vilna FPO (United Partisan Resistance – Fania was also a member of this underground organization), Abba was able to lead his group of both Jewish and non-Jewish fighters in missions against the Nazis while surviving life in the forest.  This unit was extremely successful in Nazi resistance - blowing up German railways, cutting down phonelines, and ambushing Nazi travel units. Every day, this combat unit returned to their established home in the
Rūdninkai forest and most survived until the end of the war.  Fania, a member of this combat unit, among others in the Partisans had to go live through extreme malnutrition, hunger, cold, and the constant threat of catching a virus or tick infection.  The partisans were smart about keeping themselves clean and sanitized – and the stories of how these fighters made it to the forest (some escaped through the ghetto sewers!), and how they survived are individually and
collectively amazing.  

While living in the forest, Fania –at that point an orphan without any surviving family – met her future husband.  It must have been an extraordinary love story as both of them survived  the war and made a wonderful life together in Vilnius.  Although I believe her husband has passed away, Fania now has 2 children, several grandchildren, and even great grand children – a beautiful
legacy.

Standing next to the base, together with Fania and the rest of our group from the institute, we sang the song of the Partisans together.  The song is titled "Zog Nit Keynmol" ("Never Say") and it is extraordinarily beautiful.   Here are the lyrics:

Never say that this is the end of the road.
Wherever a drop of our blood fell, there our courage will grow anew.
This song, written in blood, was sung by a people fighting
for life and freedom. 
Our triumph will come and our resounding footsteps will
proclaim "We are  here!" 

From land of palm-trees to the far-off land of snow. 
We shall be coming with our torment, with our woe;
And everywhere our blood
has sunk into the earth
Shall our bravery, or vigor blossom forth. 
 
We'll have the morning sun to set our day aglow;
Our evil yesterdays shall vanish with the foe.
But if the time is long before
the sun appears, then let this song go
like a signal through the years. 
 
This song was written with our blood, and not with lead; 
It's not a song that summer birds sing overhead;
It was a people, amidst
burning barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades. 
 
So never say you now go on your last way,
Through  darkened skies may now conceal the blue of day,
Because the hour for which  we've hungered is so near,
Beneath our feet the earth shall thunder,
"We are here!"

Singing this song with Fania is a memory I will always  have.  Her eyes told the story – her voice, along with the voice of my Yiddish speaking peers, stitched it into  my heart.

Now, the next part of this story is just as amazing, but  I will keep it brief, because I know extremely long blog posts are never fun.  Today, for three hours, Fania showed our group the former Jewish ghettos in Vilna and in the following collage of pictures – I will explain what I saw.

Now, I know I will always be indebted to Fania for her kindness in sharing her story with me. 
I consider her to be a hero of the Holocaust –someone who survived – someone who keeps its memory and the memory of those who were lost alive. But when I told Fania this, she didn’t react in the way I expected.  She didn’t want to be called a hero.  

Rather, Fania just wants to be thought of as a person who lived.  She feels she is just a  person doing her duty as a human being to share her story.  It was hard for me to grapple with this because to me, Fania is amazing – she is extraordinary.  How can we honor Fania if she doesn’t she want to accept this credit?  But then I realized something – Fania doesn’t do anything in order to “take credit” – she tells her story it because she feels she has to. 

Fania has reminded me of the way society looks at heroes, and the way heroes often look at themselves.  It made me realize that over the span of her life, Fania was just doing what she thought was right. Maybe if all can try to follow in her footsteps, if we do what we think is good - maybe we can all be “heroes.”And maybe we can honor Fania in that way.

I think that this is her ultimate goal with sharing her story with others.  Fania shares her story in order to spread goodness in the world.  With every person she touches, she is creating a chain reaction of positivity – a chain reaction of resilience.  After having met her, I am now determined to share this goodness with others, and that is how I plan to celebrate the survival of this amazing human being, and even more, the history of this stunning Jewish culture.  Fania’s lessons will be my fighting light in the dark parts of life that try beat us. 

Now, although I could probably write on for ages, I am  going to stop here and call it a night (its 3 am – eeh!) I hope you enjoyed learning about Fania and about my time in Vilnius – in my next post I will discuss my coming graduation and homecoming to the grand USA.  I hope you all have good week and always – thank you for reading.

All the best,
Arielle

Hi everyone! Thanks for tuning into the latest post about my summer adventure in Eastern Europe. 
Sorry for the long space in time between this and my last post.  Things have been so crazy here in
Vilnius, it’s been tough finding the time to write! Everyday has been jam packed – it’s been a lot of fun!

 I just completed my third week of study at the Vilnius Yiddish Institute.  Over the course of this time, I feel that my Yiddish abilities have significantly improved.  I used to be shy about speaking Yiddish to others because I did not trust my abilities. Now, I feel that I can hold a semi-steady conversation in Yiddish with other students without feeling embarrassed. I’ve read many new Yiddish stories, I’ve
learned many Yiddish songs, and every day feels like a new language adventure. 
 
A highlight of these past three weeks for me was last  weekend when my Mom and Dad visited me in Vilnius.  After finishing a wonderful six-day vacation in Paris, my parents flew all the way from Paris to Vilnius to spend 3 days with me.  We had a great time together exploring Vilnius, celebrating Shabbat, and visiting the nearby town of Trakai where we saw the Former Grand Duke of
Lithuania’s Castle Fortress.  Last week, I joined the choir of the Yiddish Institute, and I was so happy that my parents were able to come to our concert last Friday night. They were able to hear the Yiddish music that I have grown to love and it is now something we can share. At the end of their stay, on Saturday night, my parents took Ella and I out to dinner in Vilnius, and all together we had a great time eating classic Lithuanian food and drinking white wine (I’m legally allowed to drink in Europe!)  The weekend with my parents went by so quickly, but I know I will always remember it. I love them both so much and am so happy they came.

Another highlight of this program for me has been the relationship I’ve made with a 91 year old woman from Vilnius named Fania.  

Fania Brantovskaya has lived in Vilnius (Vilna, in yiddish) her whole life.  Fania was  teenager during the years of the second world war and with her own eyes she saw  the annihilation of Jewish population that used to be her community.  Before WWII, Vilna used to be considered the Jerusalem of Eastern Europe.   Jews from all over the world (musicians, artists, intellectuals, scientists,etc) would travel to Vilna see the vibrant, intellectual Jewish culture that made Vilna the hub that it was.
Before WWII, Vilna was the best place a Jewish person could live.  

When the Nazis arrived, everything changed as Jewish people were dehumanized.  Immediately, they were forced to leave their homes, move into one of two ghettos, and day by day face the danger of being deported to a concentration camp or taken to be shot in the nearby forests – which unfortunately was the fate of most.  Vilna once had a population of 40,000 Jewish people, but after the war, there were only a few hundred survivors. 

I first met Fania when she spoke to my Helix group when we came to Vilnius at the end of our trip.  Over pizza and coffee, she told us her story – we learned about her childhood in Vilnius, about her life in the ghetto, and she explained to us her story her of survival, achieved by joining the
anti-Nazi resistance and serving as a partisan in the nearby Lithuanian forest.  Fania is one of the liveliest women I’ve ever met.  She is warm, spunky, very intelligent – and she is probably one of the
toughest people alive.  What she lived through in the ghetto and in the forest is something I hope nobody will ever have to experience.  Fania lost her entire family in the Holocaust. The way
that she can tell her story to strangers and be so positive while recalling  these painful memories is amazing.

When Helix ended and the VYI began, I was so excited to hear that my relationship with Fania would not end there.  Fania also serves as the librarian of the Yiddish library at the institute. Whenever I did my homework at the library, Fania would sit next to me, organizing the Yiddish books, always with a smile on her face.  I’d tell her “Shalom-Aleichem” and she smile back, responding  “Aleichem-Shalom!” Fania has loaned me several books from the library and I really don’t know what the institute would do without her!

 Lucky enough, my parents were able to meet Fania when  they came to visit because as we were standing outside the Holocaust museum in Vilnius (it had unfortunately just closed when we got there) out of the museum comes Fania who had just led a tour.  In Yiddish, I introduced my parents to Fania and acted as translator for them, it was beyond cool.  She was so happy to meet my parents and my parents were even more thrilled to meet her – a living partisan! My folks may not have been able to see the Holocaust museum in Vilnius, but they met someone who lived through it, so I’d say it's all good.

For a long time I had known that I wanted to interview Fania about her partisan experience, but I knew I needed to build my Yiddish speaking abilities first.  After the third week of the program I felt ready and I planned with a new friend of mine and yiddish speaker, Dr. Jolanta Mickute, an interview with Fania.  I prepared questions all in Yiddish to ask Fania and prayed all week that the interview would run smoothly.  Yesterday, I interviewed Fania for three hours and it went wonderfully.  Fania was thrilled to speak to us and told us her story from beginning to end.  While I didn’t understand all that she was saying because she answered every question in Yiddish (she does not speak English), I was able to follow the main storyline and learned a ton.  During the interview I couldn’t help but think: now, this is why I take Yiddish, for moments like these when I can speak to Holocaust survivors in their native language and remember the culture that for them brings back such fond
memories.  Yiddish was the language of Fania’s family, of her city – it was the language of her people. 

Today, very few people speak Yiddish. Most of the Yiddish speakers perished in the Holocaust and the language itself is diminishing slowly due to lack of use.  Programs like the Vilnius Yiddish Institute are so vital to the existence of the language because it is the young people who learn it who will carry its memory into the next generation.  I am proud to be one of those young people.  I’m
thrilled to keep this amazing language alive.  Speaking to Fania in Yiddish, no matter how difficult it was for me, is a memory I’ll always have because of the smile on her face when speaking the language of her childhood.

 Fania’s story has inspired me in so many ways. Fania’s will to survive, her bravery as a resistance fighter, and her pride to be Jewish has left a hand print on me.  We share the same morals and I hope that one day, (under different circumstances of course), I can be as resilient and strong as she is.  I hope to use her story as inspiration for my own story I hope to write which will be about the partisan resistance and the Jewish culture in Eastern Europe.  I can’t wait to further educate myself about the Jews of Vilna and the resistance that proved they wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

During the Holocaust, Jewish people resisted in all sorts of ways – by saving historical and literary documents, burying torahs underground, writing anti-Nazi pamphlets, running spiritual events, and fighting in the forests.  I look up to all of these people who refused to obey the Nazi law, even in the face of death.  

As living people today, I think the memory of the Holocaust resistance should be reminder that as human beings it is our  responsibility to not simply ignore evil when it is happening – we must stand
against it.  We must defy it. We must remember the Holocaust in order to make sure that something like it never happens again and we must look to the lessons of the Holocaust resistance as
models for our own behavior.  
 
Tomorrow, with Fania as my guide, I will be visiting the Ponary forest in Lithuania where tens of thousands of Jewish people from Vilna were shot by the Nazis (Fania escorted the President of Israel to this historic site last week during his visit to Lithuania). Afterwards, Fania will be taking my group to her former partisan bunker in the forest and I will see where she lived, fought, and  survived –keeping her language and culture alive with her. I am looking forward to this experience and I will be sure to write about it in my next post. I hope you all have nice weekends and again, thanks so much for reading.

 All the best,

 Arielle