• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

From Flint to Flame

Travel, Music and Other Shiny Things....

  • Home
  • About
  • Destinations (T.T.W.T.H.)
    • Europe
      • Europe: Stampede of Unicorns
      • Italy
        • Pisa
          • A Pisa My Mind After Arriving
        • Lucca
          • Lucca Both Ways Before Crossing the Cobblestone – Part 1
          • Lucca Both Ways Before Crossing the Cobblestone Part II
        • Florence
          • Florence and I are Best Firenze Part I
        • Rome
          • Rome-per Room or, Un-Convent-ional Accomodations
          • Ready to Rome-ble at the Colosseum
          • P-Rome-nade on Palatine Hill
          • Rome-ing Underground. The Catacombs of San Sebastian
          • Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum
        • Pompeii
          • Pompeii and Circumstance Part A
          • Pompeii and Circumstance Parts B, C and 4
      • Poland
        • Auschwitz
          • Prologue
          • Oswiecim
    • North America
      • Hawaii
        • Hawaii – The Flint is Struck
        • Oahu North Shore
          • Pupakea First Impressions: Sunrise
          • Dillingham Airfield and As-soar-ted activities.
          • Haleiwa Surfing Lessons or, “Surfer Down” in My Case
          • Haleiwa Shark Cage Diving
  • Music
    • The Rocking Chair (Guitar Cover Tunes)
      • Aretha Franklin – Rock Steady (guitar cover)
      • Pink Floyd – Time
      • Steely Dan – Rikki Don’t Lose that Number (Guitar Cover)
      • Stevie Ray Vaughan – Pride N Joy
    • Musical Direction
    • Reviews
      • Fairgale – Pillars
    • Concerts
      • The Eagles Moncton 2008
  • Other Shiny Things…
    • Movies
      • Cinematic Survivor
      • Black Panther
      • Ready Player One
    • Miscellany
      • A Free Association Inaugural Post
  • Serious Fare
    • Auschwitz
      • Prologue
      • Oswiecim
  • Contact

Archives for March 2018

Oswiecim

March 21, 2018 By Mark Chatham 1 Comment

 

The Hike from the Train Station

We arrived at Oswiecim, Poland at around suppertime on Wednesday the 13th of September. In the interest of total disclosure, we never did see the town proper, just the camps and the walk from the station. Since my despondent epiphany in Vienna, a fundamental change had taken place in my approach to things that annoyed, or scared me, or provoked stress. I decided to meet challenges which might normally annoy me with an assured equanimity and attempt to snuff the initial spark of anger. It’s difficult to stay consistent, but I try. I choose to do this because nothing I endure in my life can compare to be packed in a cattle car, shipped to a concentration camp and seeing my family killed before my eyes.

There were no cabs waiting at this train station once we arrived. Indeed, the place seemed deserted. We shouldered our backpacks and began the mile long trek to Hotel Olecki, which I had booked about two hours prior through Trivago. Jo is in much better physical shape than I am, so we had to stop every quarter mile or so to drop the duffle bag we were carrying between us so I could catch my breath, check our position on GPS and to just check out surroundings which were surprisingly similar to home in respect to climate and natural environment.

There was a tall, weather beaten fence that hid what was on our side of the road from view (with the exception of the source of stretches of lush tree canopy above) and I had to wonder if that was part of the camp. It wasn’t, but that line of thought was ever present during this trek. While this area felt very much like home in the Maritime provinces in respect to climate and vegetation, the topography was completely flat, which was fortunate for us as we made our way to the hotel. Once we arrived, the situation deteriorated. No reservation and the hotel was full, despite the fact we had a confirmation. We tried our luck at the Hotel Imperiale next door and were fortunate enough to find a room.

There’s a reason I mention the mix-up, which seems minor now, but making a run from Florence, Italy to Ozweicim, Poland in a 28 hours is taxing despite the sleeper berth. In my inexperience I had stretched us pretty thin and that’s on me. I mention it because human nature being what it is I was immediately incensed. I then did the opposite of what human nature dictated and immediately doused the anger. I stayed polite and a solution was found. Why did I stay so polite?

Because it’s really hard to get angry and yell at someone over something like this when Auschwitz I is staring you directly in the face from across the road, as we discovered in our walk up to the hotel. It was a moment of enforced enlightenment as to what really matters in life. There would be many more such moments to come. We had arrived at Auschwitz.

We ended up staying at the hotel across the street.

The Town of Oswiecim: Historic Context

Osweicim is a small town in southern Poland just across the border from the Czech Republic. Historically, it appears shortly after Poland became an independent sovereignty around the 11th century and the local Jewish populace called it Oshpitzin. Looking at events through the lens of a North American, its arc looks typically European. Indeed, it was an independent Duchy from 1315 until 1445 when it was sold to the Kingdom of Poland. There’s a strong Germanic influence in the region and it was German trade merchants who dubbed it “Auschwitz” in the 14th century.By the mid-18th century the town had become an important railway hub and by 1938, one year before the Nazi blitzkrieg rolled across Poland, the town had a population of 13,000 souls of which 8,000 were Jewish,

Shortly after the Nazis had occupied Poland the persecution of Jews and other ethnic groups began. Eventually six million poles or 21.4% of the country’s population half of whom were Jewish would die at Nazi hands, more than a million in Auschwitz alone.

 

A Google Earth Satellite map of the town today. Auschwitz and Birkenau are on the west
side of the town. Wikipedia lists the population as of 2017 at 40,979

Nazi Racial Policies

Hitler had outlined the fate of those in the east fifteen years prior to the war in Mein Kampf, the manifesto he penned in 1923 while imprisoned for an attempted coup that came to be known as the Beer Hall Putsch. The book was published in 1925 and essentially outlined a philosophy of Aryan superiority and racial cleansing. This foundation was the justification for the removal of inferior eastern races from territory in the east.  According to Hitler, fate dictated that the Aryan race would rise to its historic glory by subjugating the countries to the east in order to gain the German people Lebensraum, or “living space.” The policy for all occupied territory to the east would eventually become Generalplan Ost and its essence was related by Hitler to his Wehrmacht commanders a month prior to the invasion of Poland in September 1939 in his Obersalzburg speech.

“And so for the present only in the East I have put my death-head formations’ in place with the command relentlessly and without compassion to send into death many women and children of Polish origin and language. Only thus we can gain the living space [lebensraum] that we need.”

These words are chilling to read on the page and represent the antithesis of the word “civilization.” Through official policy and statutory engagement, the evolution of what would eventually become the most horrific and inhuman regime in history marched through time for all to see. I find it especially chilling because it strikes me that the flow chart of current event feels like it’s unfolding in similar ways to the nazi narrative. At least in respect to the marginalization of people based on the assumption that they are not worthy of dignity or consideration of their basic humanity driven by racial, political and religious bias and driven in a large measure by fear. In my experience, this deterioration of human value has been ongoing for 30 years and isn’t heading in a hopeful direction.

Nazi Occupation of Poland

In September 1939 the Germans ripped through Western Poland while the Soviets tore through Eastern Poland in three weeks.  The Nuremberg Laws were extended through German occupied territories and the grim work of subjugating the Polish people began in earnest. The list of war crimes committed by the Nazis is extensive and a horrifying read. It’s impossible to overstate the sheer brutality of the nazi occupation of Poland. Nazi death squads called Einsatzgruppen were dispatched immediately under Operation Tannenberg with the express goal of finding and eradicating 61,000 people comprised of political activists, intelligencia, scholars, clergy and others. When the operation finally concluded in January 1940 more than 22,000 people had been murdered and this isn’t taking into account thousands of murdered psychiatric patients killed in hospitals.

As to the Jews, there were other plans in the works and while 5,000 were murdered in the first month, by and large they were deported to ghettos and camps. It feels obscene to just be typing this, but despite the nazi’s relentless racial obsession and obsessive mechanical efficiency they couldn’t kill their victims fast enough, hence the need for camps. In the end, They did more than raze family trees, they clear cut entire geneological forests.

Auschwitz

By April 1940 the decision was made to take an existing, dilapidated Polish army barracks as the foundation for the concentration camp which would become “Auschwitz” and 1,200 houses were demolished and their owners deported. A work crew of inmates from the Sachsenhausen concentration camp and 300 local Jews were used as slave labor for the construction. The rest of of the Jews comprising 60% of Osweicim’s population were deported to ghettos.

Auschwitz I was finished in a month and was ready for the first inmates in June 1940.

It was 78 years later we were checking in to a hotel across the street and my brain was on fire despite the fact I was pegging the exhaustion meter. As it would turn out, this was the nicest hotel we stayed in during our entire trip. We showered and went down to the restaurant to eat what was possibly the finest meal of the trip. It was ridiculous. The salad had edible flowers as garnish. Across the street from Auschwitz I. I realize it was due to the ADHD mode of travel I seemed to have us embarked upon, but staying in those posh conditions bothers me still today. It certainly would offer immense contrast the next day and drive home more deeply questions to ponder on this European trip which was also something of a spiritual journey.

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: Travel (T.T.W.T.H.)

Lucca Both Ways Before Crossing the Cobblestone – Part 1

March 4, 2018 By Mark Chatham 2 Comments

And Watch Your C’s and Q’s

Steve the Translator loves talking about linguistics and I love to learn. On the 15 minute or so drive back to Lucca from Pisa he would correct my mangled Italian as I tried out my new tongue. It struck me as a sound policy to learn some simple Italian but to also try to get the pronunciation right. I have zero idea of how much difference nuance and tone make and I don’t want to find myself subject to a body cavity search purely because my fricatives collide aggressively with my diphthongs when I innocently ask a police officer for directions to a bathroom. As demonstrated in this video, I can be a little slow sometimes.

 

 

It wasn’t long before we were skirting the city walls of Lucca. The town itself sprawls well past the walled city center but we took a quick detour to pass through the main gate into the old town for a quick look, then headed back out.

 

 

A quick aside in respect to the video above. I know blues harp, bottleneck slide guitar with a driving, punch n crunch rhythm section isn’t the obvious choice of soundtrack when driving through a a 2nd century medieval Italian town with impressive 11th century walls. In truth I just don’t have any Italian accordion pieces in the production pipe right now.

If you pretend the video is a low speed car chase shot in a documentary, cinema verite style it works. We’ll say the Italian police (or carabinieri as they’re properly known) chasing me for the many, many fashion felonies I’ve committed over the years. Work with me on this, willya? Anyway, within a couple of minutes after we’d passed through the gate we were at Steve’s house.

Home is Where the Wrought Iron is

The buildings in Europe are so old and settled so much they apparently bent the bars.

Steve’s home was a lovely two story… house of the sort you’d expect to see in Italy. Look, I’m no architect. It has like, stucco walls painted one of the only four colors of exterior paint I assume are mandated by law in Italy. It was hard to make out the shape of the structure because they have so much flora and fauna inside their small, walled courtyard entry. It’s very Mediterranean and as we hadn’t been outside of Nova Scotia for one full rotation of the Earth yet, it was new and exotic. Black, wrought iron window grills are a nice touch and lend to that “old country” vibe. The “old country” vibe actually means hoping not to be caught inside if there’s a fire. Okay, I’m just jealous cause I live in a cardboard box. All I know is that it’s beautiful in a breath taking kind of way.

Anastasia, the Translator’s wife met us at the door with their two children. She’s a former swimsuit model from St. Petersburg, Russia. Did I mention Steve the Translator is an interesting fellow? I had met her on an earlier trip they’d taken to Canada, but this was Joanne’s first introduction and the ladies hit it off immediately.

Anastasia is a delightfully charming lady who speaks English, Russian and is learning Italian. Their two children Alisa five and Simon, two, are also multi-lingual. Alisa’s English is far superior to my Russian, Italian or even my French and I barely have a slight edge in respect to English. She knows three times the languages I do and she’s fifteen times younger than I am. During meals I had to wonder if this is how the cafeteria at the UN sounds.

Joanne and I slept for a couple of hours, but we didn’t catch our second wind. More like a .68 wind recovery. We had agreed before the trip that I was going to take The Translator family out to supper and as Steve and Anastasia felt a night out was overdue, a babysitter was found and and we headed in to the old city for supper.

In Lucca

Sliding through the narrow city gates, Steve parked the car and we started walking towards the central plaza as the sun began to settle  behind the buildings and night crept in behind us. Walking through the narrow cobbled streets on a sultry fall evening in Europe for the first time felt utterly cinematic in scope. I’d seen this type of setting in so many movies which resulted in a warm familiarity associated with what I was experiencing. There was so much to command attention it resulted in a form of sensory overload and I was along for the ride rather than putting any thought or consideration into the significance of what I was seeing in the moment.

The Local Bowling Alley

We turned a corner into a piazza and the San Michele Basilica exploded into view, the marble glowing rosy in the light of the setting sun and I had to stop and gawk as I was having a hard time processing it all. The size and intricacy of the inlay and sculptures on the facade make the construction process of this imposing structure impossible to imagine given the fact the main structure was rebuilt in 1070 and the facade was constructed in the 13th century.

Steve and Anastasia were offering a running commentary this entire time. Steve mostly on history with Anastasia offering insight into daily life as relative newcomers to Italy. She’d point out the apartment where they lived where they arrived, the playground where we would take the kids the next day. I was grateful for the focus both commentaries provided during the half hour or so walk to the Piazza dell’Anfiteatro which is a huge plaza designed around a 1st century Roman amphitheater. I think I saw one of those off the I-95 near Bangor, Maine on the during a trip on the way to Boston once.

Wikipedia

On the way we catch a glimpse of Guinigi Tower, a local landmark.  Bout 45 meter-ish tall… it is indeed, a tower. This one is a bit more innovative as it has oak trees growing out of the top in a kind of Mad Max: Fury Road motif. I can see Immortan Joe stepping up to the ledge at the top in his apocalyptic sleep apnea mask while water pours out the openings near the top. Yeah, technically Joe was on a butte in the movie, but my heart is in the right place with that comparison. The tower was actually built by  wealthy Luinigi family during the great tower building craze amongst the local gentry in Lucca during the 14th century. Think of the tulip craze in Holland in the 17th century, except with towers and you get the idea. There were as many as 250 towers built in town by a number of wealthy families and nine remain today.

Mamma Mia! I’m so Hungry I Could Eat a Lippanzaner Stallion!

My gargantuan head, Steve, Anastasia and Jo at the piazza. For a Roman amphitheater there is a surprising and disappointing lack of gladiatorial contests

Continuing down the narrow, cobbled lane we came to an arched tunnel which led to the Piazza. Steve grounded us once again with historic context. In 1830 the place came under new ownership in the form of architect Lorenzo Nottolini who took the “open concept” to the extreme and razed all the buildings that occupied the area we were now strolling and laid out the piazza to the specs of the original 1st century Roman forum. I listened intently and all I could think of was meat.

I could smell it, I knew it was here somewhere… I just didn’t know exactly where yet. There were numerous ristorantes and trattorie dotting the periphery of the piazza and I kept stealing side-long glances at Steve hoping he would veer off in the right direction, but we went right out the other side of the plaza. D’oh! Fortunately, the restaurant was meters away on the other side of the archway. We would be eating at the Osteria Baralla which I believe is Italian for “McDonalds.”

Osteria Baralla

What do you mean I can’t have fries with my order?

We’re seated outside at a table and I feel like I’m in The Godfather. I find myself wondering if they have cannoli on the menu, just so I can order one so I can tell the waiter “Leave the gun, take the cannoli” at the end of the meal. A fellow comes by selling roses and I buy one each for the ladies. This was our first experience with “tourist table side service” for any number of souvenir hawkers. Tonight, it was nice and lent a fairy tale feel to the proceedings which enhanced the almost scripted, cinematic feel to the experience. By the time we’d get to Rome the fairy tales were the individual stories that the onslaught of vendors would pitch any time you ate outdoors at a sidewalk restaurant.

Fortunately, Steve the Translator translated the menu for us and we ordered our meals. I was starting with an antipasto as an appetizer for the table and ordered the steak tartare as my main course. The antipasto consisted of Salami Lucchese, pecorino cheese and fresh figs. Jo and The Translators all ordered the Chianini beef steak.

 

Big Macs are way different in Italy than they are back home

The food that night was scrumptious. The bread alone was fantastic. A beautiful, crispy, crunchy dark brown crust with an exceptionally soft and fluffy interior. The fresh sweetness of the figs complimented the earthiness of the pecorino cheese as cooling notes to the peppery cure of the Salami Lucchese. I had a bite of Jo’s beef when her head was turned and it was loaded with flavor.

I’d never had steak tartare before and thought I’d give it a whirl but I was somewhat = disappointed. It arrived in the form of a red ball with a raw egg yolk on top surrounded by crackers n condiments. Dijon mustard, red onion, tomato, cilantro and tangy mystery brown stuff all made for a very pretty plate. However, I found the tartare under seasoned and bland, but overall it would be one of the best meals I had while we were in Italy but that’s mostly because I generally loathe pasta dishes.

The service was excellent, the wait staff was attentive and engaging and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience with excellent company.

 

Gelatofied

 

I relato, you relato, we all relato, for gelato!!! Nope. That doesn’t work either

We stopped for dessert at the Gelateria Veneta on the next corner on our stroll back to the car. Gelato is an Italian ice cream that is less creamy than traditional ice cream, but is packed with more intense flavor. There’s an Italian saying I just made up using Google translate that goes: “Io urlo, tu urli, noi tutti gridiamo, per gelato” because “I scream, you scream, we all scream for gelato” falls kinda flat. It doesn’t look like this saying is going to work in Italian either. If the gelato industry could come together with a kick butt catchphrase I’ll bet they’d see a pop in the price of gelato futures on the NYMEX, maybe even overtake ice cream in the commodities markets.

No matter, it was the perfect end to what had been a marvelous first encounter with Europe. We were ready to sleep when we arrived back at Steve’s and we hadn’t even been in Europe for 12 hours yet. The next day would be a more leisurely and hopefully we would be able to take everything in at a more relaxed pace.

Previously on TTWTH: A Pisa My Mind after Arrival

Next Time on TTWTH: Lucca Both Ways Before You Cross the Cobblestone Part II

 


 

 

Filed Under: Travel (T.T.W.T.H.)

Primary Sidebar

Island Time – Groove Fondue

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HBwRdstgCY

Not Fake News.

Interviewing those who lived these disasters gives one an appreciation for life.

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 9 other subscribers

Recent Posts

  • Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum
  • Rome-ing Underground. The Catacombs of San Sebastian
  • Aretha Franklin – Rock Steady (guitar cover)
  • Steely Dan – Rikki Don’t Lose that Number (Guitar Cover)
  • P-Rome-nade on Palatine Hill

Recent Comments

  • Tory on The Eagles Moncton 2008
  • Europe: Stampede of Unicorns - From Flint to Flame on A Pisa My Mind After Arriving
  • Mark on Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum
  • Mark on Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum
  • Mark on Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum

Archives

  • March 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017

Categories

  • Auschwitz
  • Concerts
  • Cover Tune Music Videos
  • Europe
  • Europe
  • Hawaii
  • Italy
  • Miscellany
  • Movies
  • Music
  • Oahu North Shore
  • Other Shiny Things…
  • Pisa
  • Pompeii
  • Reviews
  • Rome
  • The Flint – Planning
  • Travel (T.T.W.T.H.)
  • Home
  • About
  • Destinations (T.T.W.T.H.)
  • Music
  • Other Shiny Things…
  • Serious Fare
  • Contact
Copyright Flint to Flame © 2021