Notes after Yad Vashem

Today's experience of witnessing my own handwriting lending testimony to those members of my family who were murdered in the Shoah will (hopefully) never leave me.My handwriting. My history.

So often I don't feel Australian. In America hell yes I did, for I was unique, and my upbringing seemed so foreign to those American students. When comparing the simple things, it was the subtle differences that made me feel special.
Yet nor do I feel the connection to Israel anymore. I, a jaded tourist perhaps, wandering thw rold, appreciate and enjoy travelling throughout this country - but then I am just that: a tourist. I don't feel comfortable anymore speaking the language that I onced dreamed in. What has happened?

Viewing the Jewish life in Europe previous to the War made my eyes prickle with tears - I was instantly overcome with emotion. Looking at the tiny black and white faces grinning at the camera lense, children waving and beckoning at the movie camera lense - I wanted to bawl right then and there, at the very entrance of the museum. I find it interesting the way I experienced the New Museum at Yad Vashem this afternoon. I tended to skim over the historical facts that I could recite by heart - the Nuremberg Laws, the burning of the books, Krystallnacht, the layout of the death camps and the crematoria. Is that bad? I didn't care much for the video footage of thousands of Nazis at a rally in Berline, nor of Hitler giving his speeches about the Jewish 'vermin' - complete with enough spittle to last a lifetime. What moved me most throughout each exhibit was the artwork displayed that was created during those horrific times. The feelings they conveyed touched me much more than the number crunches, and the graphic images of corpses in mass graves. The testimonies of survivors, their voices cracking over certain words, certain memories. That's what moved me. The tales of survivors surviving their survival after the Shoah - struggling to rejoin society, with the burden of their grief, experiences, losses and nightmares.

I wept when I found a scan of a document I filled out on behalf of Papa two years ago on the Yad Vashem database of the victims of the Shoah. There were many documents. His sister, Giza, a 'cosmetician'. Matylda. Cylka. His father. Even Helena. I wept as I clicked from document to document - these special people, these members of my family, my past - a past that has made me who I am today - were finally chronicled in Yad Vashem. In my handwriting. I've never felt more proud. I've never felt more connected to my history than this afternoon. Wow.

The Yad Vashem museum was one of the best I've ever been to. The memorial park definitely needed this new museum - it gives so much weight to the other monuments in the complex. Not only for those who have never been to Yad Vashem, nor for those unfamiliar with the history of the Shoah, but its important for those who, like myself, teeter on the obsessive when it comes to Holocaust studies. For those who have visited Yad Vashem prior to the opening of this New Museum. It reminds us where we came from, and, as one exits the new building, it reminds us where we are right now. As one leaves the exhibit you are on a sheltered balcony overlooking the valleys of Jerusalem, the sun dazzling, with an open view of the afternoon sky. The Jewish people are here to stay.

Take that Nasrallah.

A Taste of the Greek Islands...

These are more pictures of my time island hopping between Mykonos, Santorini and Ios.. Unfortunately I forgot my camera battery charger in London, and so only had limited use of the camera. I resorted to buying a throwaway camera during my time in Naxos, but I think I managed to have a little battery time..let me see....

Mykonos

This is the gorgeous port of Mykonos...one of my favourites...
And the infamous windmills...



Me and Elliot!

Me and Amanda!












My last night at Mykonos - my Greek friends!








Lovely pics of picturesque Santorini...

Posing amongst the antiquities...

Anyone for pictures?

Yes, it's been a long time since I've posted anything up on this blog... Well, by anything I mean photos, and I've been told that it's much needed. Now I have two choices - whether to go back to my old posts and redo them with pics, but then I question the logic of that, since nobody will really go backward and go hunting for them. So here, may I present to you, Sarah;s slideshow of what she's been up to since...well....
WHAT SARAH HAS BEEN DOING SINCE PENN!

Like it?

Here goes...

Road Trip...with Daddy

Go go go Israel!

yo everyone! I'm in Israel! And i'm still alive :)

Funny though, my mum told me not to go on buses.. but i don't think how that's going to stop things falling from the sky on me.. meh, at least the buses will be moving, if i was walking, well.... i'll be careful in haifa, no worries :)

so, if you are concerned or just want to talk to me, i have an israeli cell number... sorry, a 'mobile' number.. I may have no acquired an american accent, but I certainly have some of their vocab permanent in mine... and i love it!

So, if you do want to reach me for any reason, and send a text perhaps? For a special day maybe? Haha, I am so vain. Just keeping in touch, that's all. Email me and I'll send you it. I was just about to write it online, but then again I don't particularly want weirdos harrassing me... not my thing, really.

Stay cool y'all.

Neighbourhood Bully

This poem/song, written by Bob Dylan, was brought to my attention by ICJS. Thanks, Ralph and Ronit.

Well, the neighborhood bully, he's just one man,
His enemies say he's on their land.
They got him outnumbered about a million to one,
He got no place to escape to, no place to run.
He's the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully just lives to survive,
He's criticized and condemned for being alive.
He's not supposed to fight back, he's supposed to have thick skin,
He's supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.
He's the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land,
He's wandered the earth an exiled man.
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn,
He's always on trial for just being born.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad.
The bombs were meant for him.
He was supposed to feel bad.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That he'll live by the rules that the world makes for him,
'Cause there's a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac.
He's the neighborhood bully.

He got no allies to really speak of.
What he gets he must pay for, he don't get it out of love.
He buys obsolete weapons and he won't be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, he's surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease.
Now, they wouldn't hurt a fly.
To hurt one they would weep.
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Every empire that's enslaved him is gone,
Egypt and Rome, even the great Babylon.
He's made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,
In bed with nobody, under no one's command.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Now his holiest books have been trampled upon,
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on.
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health.
He's the neighborhood bully.

What's anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin', they say.
He just likes to cause war.
Pride and prejudice and superstition indeed,
They wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed.
He's the neighborhood bully.

What has he done to wear so many scars?
Does he change the course of rivers?
Does he pollute the moon and stars?
Neighborhood bully, standing on the hill,
Running out the clock, time standing still,
Neighborhood bully.

May Israel be blessed with peace again.

London.. Whoa...

So. Here I am, in good ol London town. And I haven't written a post about it. Yet.
Here goes, eh. I arrived in the city last week, in the middle (or the near end) of a very strange heat wave. A heat wave in London! Weird! I was dressed appropriately for the London weather I had been anticipating - jeans, tee and converse shoes(with socks of course). Sitting on the tube on the way to the hostel (and it was a long ride - delays pushed it to two hours and forty five minutes..yukko) I wanted to dive into my suitcase and change into shorts and thongs! It was crazy heat. That night I caught up over (my second EVER in my life, quite a surprise to all, but considering my disdain for Starbucks) Frappacino with Yocheved, and together we planned the next day. It consisted of having a sticky beak around Camden Town and market, and spending a lovely afternoon in Greenwich. I know I've mentioned our time in Grennwich once, but for those of y0u that don't pay the most attention, let me remind you what we did:

It was a splendid sunny afternoon, and Yocheved and I took a walk from the tube station trying to find our way to the Observatory... via 'Cutty Shark/Stark'(I really can't remember now), just an old boat planted in the middle of a square, and past (and through!) the Royal Maritime Museum -that's right, a museum dedicated to the Navy and those things related to British influence in the waters of the world. Well, amen. Both of us were somewhat interested - it actually provided some fascinating information believe it or not, but we soon become bored/tired and decided to head on up towards the real reason why we came to Greenwich. And what obstacles lay in our way! There was this hill, a steep hill that I'm sure most found trouble walking up the angle, and this was our welcome to Greenwich Meridian Time Line. Some welcome. When we finally made it to the top, we took some delightful pictures in front of an old clock, along the actual line that divided the world into time zones. and then wandered around the museum for as long as our attention lasted us. I'm going to post some pictures of that very soon. (i promise!)

However, on our way down from the Royal Observatory, the heavens decided to open up and rain down plump heavy raindrops that soaked us through to our skin. While not being especially cold, we wanted out of that weather for a short while. After it cleared up, and we entertained some indoor retail therapy, we boarded a boat that cruised down the River Thames in the grey sunshine. Delightful.It was actually quite insightful, one of the crew got hold on a microphone and pointed out to us tourists the various landwarks in possible view along the river. Lovely. We didn;t have to do that Hop - on - Hop - off tourist trap of a bus that most people like us would perhaps take.

That evening I watched the soccer on tv and the cuaght up with Shira briefly. I needed some quiet nights after the crazy times in Greece.

On Wednesday, the weather went psycho. Sunny, rainy, windy, calm - Mother Nature was being VERY tempermental, or perhaps just MENTAL. I went out with Tim for lunch, haven't seen him since he left to work in London... And then Yocheved and I went to the Cabinet War Rooms, the hidden passages beneath the ground near 10 Downing St where Churchill and the British Goverment worked from during the Second World War. It was such an interesting museum, I would highly recommend it to anyone that ventures out to London. Perfect rainy weather activity!

A Grecian Goddess walks into a bar...

Ios - an island of hedonism, Dionysus and all things Greek. A.k.a PARTY TIME!

And that is all.


















No, not really, I shall let you in on what I was up to in both Ios (the name of the last island Amma and I travelled to, also the name which Amma constantly forgot. "Where are we again?" she would often ask me... it was really funny for a while... But then we became concerned... ) and Athens.

We arrived in Ios in a delusional state (we had no sleep the night before) and as soon as we got off the ferry we searched for a little sign advertising "Francesco's" - a hostel that we had heard about, for they promise to provide vegemite on toast for brekkie. Gold! Amma and I were having too good a time in Santorini to book accomodation, so we prayed that there was still room. Thankfully, there was, and there was also room for our new Argenitinian/Canadian friends as well. We were also blessed to share our room with a Canadian girl, with whom we had SO much fun with. Party on Wayne. I'll post the hilarious pictures in a short while.

So basically there's not much to do in Ios aside from getting browner on the beach and partying. I was cool with that. According to sources in London I have returned 'black' (no small feat might I add) and I can't stop checking myself out on the tube comparing my lovely tanned arms to the pale limbs of the British. The Argentinians actually all live in Calgary, Canada, where they migrated about six years ago. Amma and I were actually quite lucky we formed a great group with these guys and our other Canadian roommate, and we all had a lot of fun going out that night.

Ours days on Ios were fun and relaxing - I can never get enough of the beach, and this beach was quite beauitful. We were originally challenged to a game of volleyball by the Argentinians (Amma put us girls up to that, I confessed that I had NO idea how to play... just because I'm tall doesn't guarantee that I know how to play all the 'tall' sports!) but thankfully we didn't get around to making the biggest fool of ourselves. That afternoon some more people from the pervious hostel in Santorini came to Ios, and we all had one big party in one of our rooms, going nuts with the camera, taking the weirdest photos of us all. These picture I must post, but I will get them when I am emailed them myself. Amma and I kept laughing and looking at them for days afterwards.

So there's not much else to say about Ios - I'd rather the photos show you what fun we had.

But Athens, now that's another story... But I'll keep it on this post! Yay!

Most people didn't like Athens. My cousins couldn't stop bagging it. Everyone told us we could 'see' it in a day. My, what a different experience Amma and I had. After shlepping Amma's suitcases up the hill and far away to our hostel, we quickly got changed and decided to explore downtown Athens. It is so pretty! We kept oohing and ahhing at the cute little cafes and bars lining the streets - they were packed - and the different angles we could see the acropolis illuminated in the night... but we were exhausted after a full day of travelling, and went to sleep in our boiling hot hostel. Actually it was so difficult sleeping in that heat, I don't know how I got up the next morning.

The next day we decided to "Go Asian!" or... GO ANCIENT! yeah! By the time we left the hostel, the heat was already beating down on us, and became unbearable. We kept having to have mini-breaks in the shade just to rest and keep us going for the whole day. We toured the entire Acropolis site and I was impressed with my lack of knowledge of Ancient Greece. We never learnt about it in school - my only point of reference was my cherished Children's Encyclopedia of Greek Myths... but even that doesn't help me when trying to grasp the significance of the Pantheon. We didn't have a tour guide, and the heat was getting too much, but I did appreciate the stunning architecture of the site. I was glad to remember some of the little snippets of architectural history I learnt from Rob over the years... it was all coming back to me - ionic columns etc.

That afternoon we explored some markets and then went back to the hostel for a nap. The heat just drained us, and we had no more energy for anything more ancient...

That night we went back to the Monstiraki Square to a delightful restaurant that could have felt at home in Melbourne or New York city. The decor was so right on and gorgeous, and so were the waiters! The food was cheap and yum too - we couldn't have gone to a better place. We loved the restaurant so much, and we told the waiters so. They then took us to the upstairs of the place and showed us the bar that's usually open during the summer (but it was closed as it had rained that afternoon) and it was there that we had a most spectacular sight of the Acropolis. Shame my camera ran out of battery just at that minute, but I'll post some pics of it when Amma sends me the rest of our photo collective.

So yes, that was Greece for you. Oh, let me add in some interesting happenings:

Greece, where women(Amma and I) got hissed at like cats - what the?
Greece, where we carried around deoderant and a change of shirt in our bags - never in my life had I done that! What a dirty bugger!
Greece, where it's impossible to be in a rush to go ANYWHERE - because the Greeks just don't care.

Um, I actually had some funny stories but they're not coming into my head right now. Do apologise. So that's all folks! As my dad says, another great chapter in Sarah's travels this year. But with each chapter is some sadness of leaving it, and excitement of an apporaching one. So let me leave you with this - I'm loving London right now, catching up with Shira and Yocheved and Tim.... and I am SO excited about Israel - Alana, here I come! :)

God bless xx






































god bless? what the hell am i on? this isn't me! god bless? wtf?

Fools riding horses

Only in Britain can a program like "Fools riding horses" can actually make it past production and onto television airing during prime time right after the six o'clock news. "Fools riding on horses" shows people in their best attempts at an equestrian course but failing hopelessly, often falling head over heels and being run over by horses. Question: Who the hell rides horses nowadays anyway? And equestrian? Who follows that? Only in England, eh. Only in England did I go to the National Maritime Museum and they proudly displayed posters boasting themselves as hosts for the equestrian events in the 2012 olympics.

(Note: When would Sarah usually go to a Naval/Maritime Museum? Do I really care about boats and sailors? Aside from Sailor week in New York? Well, Yocheved and I were on our way in Greenwich to see the Royal Observatory and the Meridian Time Line and happened to stumble across this large building (with free entry, of course. When you're travelling, you'll grab at anything that's free.) It turned out to be quite interesting, seeing as the British Empire grew due to its naval prowess and trade.)

So that's right, I'm in the UK now, but I won't stop my tales of Greece and their magical islands.
Tomorrow. Sorry.

Santorinininininini

Wowee. Was Greece a bit of a ride, eh. Uh oh, I've been hanging round Canadians too long and have adopted that 'eh/ay' that hangs by the tip of the ending of each sentence of agreement. Whatever. These posts aren't making any sense any more. So now I'll try and put it all in order.

Santorini. Santorini was absolutely beautiful. The island itself is actually made up of volcanic rock, it was formed by a series of explosions that took place thousands of years ago, and have been evolving ever since. The villages are all located at the top of the island, whitewashed houses with blue-domed churches hug the cliff face of the island, providing some spectacular photographs at sunset. On my second day in Santorini, Amma and I took a tour of the nearby active (ish) volcano and the hot springs nearby. Man, it was so so hot, and walking along that damn volcano reminded me how much I need to see the inside of a gym when I get back. Regularly! That day we certainly built our calf muscles, that's for sure. Some people from the hostel were also taking the tour, and we formed a great group that actually carried over when we travelling to the next island of Ios. But more about that later.

I do actually have som great pics from the volcano (it was not so active - the last action seen, and I mean explosion etc with lava and molten rock, took place in 1956. Now it just has sulfur residue and steam evaporating from a little hole in the ground.) however you will have to wait some more, because I don't have the cord to connect my camera to a computer right now. From the peak of the volcano we had a most magnificent view of Santorini and the surrounding sea. It was absolutely gorgeous, but I guess I can't really convey its beauty without the photos.

Afterwards, we cooled down (or tried to) by dipping into some hot springs near the volcano. It stunk of sulfur and actually stained my bathers - which just gives me an excuse to buy another pair! The brochure promised us that we'd have a mud bath, but it was no mud, just poo-like shapes of sulfur clumps/globs and certain spots where the water was warmer. It was fun just getting into the water, because of the damn heat.

Loving that heat though - due to the great Greek sun, I now apparently am 'black' - loving this tan, I say. I've never been this brown before IN MY LIFE! Seriously.

After the quick dip the ferry dropped us off at an island to have some lunch and a donket ride. The guide told us that there were restaurants at the top of the island in the main village, so we all grabbed a donkey and giddyed up the steep steps to the village perched on top. Restaurants? What restaurants? The whole place was deserted! Except for one with a great panoramic view (the name of the cafe was actually Panorama Cafe) there was NOTHING. But we only learnt that after wandering around the ghost village for half an hour in the vain hope of finding some remnants of civilsation. There were signs advertising hotels and cafes and pools, but when we finally reached them, they were empty derelict buildings - the pool was used as a rubbish dump.

So we killed time in this restaurant (we had three long hours... in a town with no residents!) and then hopped back onto the ferry to the village of Oia on the northern tip of the main Santorini island. Now THIS time we needed that donkey ride. Geez. We walked up all those steep steps - I don't know how many hundred of them there were - we stopped counting, and we also managed not to get crushed by passing donkeys carrying other tourists laughing at our beet red faces huffing and puffing up the path. But it was definitely worth it. Tourists flock to this village for the sunset - and boy does it put on a good show. Thanks, god.
Honestly, imagine waking up at sunrise and every day living your life seeing this most beautiful sunset shower your village in gold and pink. It was magic.

That night we partied like no tomorrow in the bars on Perissa beach. Amma and I have decided there's soundtrack of 2006 that we cannot escape. I'll burn you all a copy when I return to Melbourne. But the sad thing was, it was every dj from each bar knows the soundtrack, and plays it accordingly. We heard the exact same songs from one bar to another. I like good music, and sometimes even repitition, but ifI hear the Black Eyed Peas 'Pump It' one more time... I'm going to shoot the Dj.

The next day we took the party to Ios - the three Argentinians from our group joined us, and we were in for some South American fun!

More on that in the next post tomorrow. Stay safe! xxx