Displaced Yankee Productions | 2010 | October
Archive for October 2010

The waitress at the beer garden in Munich where Theresa and I have just had lunch clears her plate with a baffled expression and mutters in German under her breath.  Luckily, my brother Ludwig is happy to translate for the etiquette breeching foreigners.  Apparently, Theresa has sweet mustard on her plate (which she was dipping her pretzel in) too close to her main course of the salad and goat cheese and the cheese and mustard had mixed together on the plate.

Ceija's painting "Mama in Auschwitz"

“Mustard and Cheese – THAT’s a first.”  The waitress had observed in German before moving away to assist more Bavarian oriented customers.

Theresa and I had been enjoying a few days off from the steady stream of concentration camps and meetings.  As of yesterday, we had driven over 2000 kilometers through Poland, Germany a

nd Austria aided by a temperamental GPS who seems incapable of guiding us to any hotel that does not involve obscure one way side streets and construction obstacles.  In Dresden, Munich and Vienna, we had taken to simply parking the car and taking a taxi to avoid both the “Recalculating” and the swearing.

Our days as a tourist in Dresden and Munich come to an end with our arrival at Dachau and it is back to business as usual, if one can call spending time immersed in the horrors of the Nazi Holocaust business as usual.  More than one friend has sent me an email saying “Have a good day at Auschwitz!” and then immediately realized the contradiction this work brings.  We have a good day at Dachau though there are less historical sites intact than I originally thought, so our photography is limited to a few key areas.  Since I spent a week here researching just two months ago, we focus entirely on the outdoor barracks and prison areas.  At Dachau, the SS manage to combine cruelty and efficiency as evidenced by a sign in the crematorium, which hosts four large brick ovens.

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Our Polish taxi driver rushes in a half an hour late to get us to the airport, apologizing profusely.  His battery had died and he managed to get the car running again, but he didn’t dare shut it off so it was idling in the street.  He’s a HUGE man and before we can say, “those are really heavy” he scoops up our bags and hustles out the door.  We protest, but he simply shrugs and says “No problem, I have wife.”

He gets us to the airport in record time with the added bonus of a fascinating free running commentary on the history of the city.  We pass a huge park where people are biking, flying kites and picnicking.  Our guide tells us their favorite queen made it a law that this piece of land could never be developed – it must always be a park and a place for the people.  It is a law that is literally written in stone.  This queen ruled in the 15th century.

We are ready for the second leg of our trip, which takes us into the city of Berlin.  From there we have several day trips planned to the concentration camps Ravensbruck and Sachenhaussen, as well as an informal interview with a German documentary film maker who is making a film about the life of his uncle, a gay German musician who was held both at Dachau and Mauthaussen, considered one of the most brutal camps there was.  Klaus, the nephew, will be speaking about his uncle in my documentary “Forget Us Not.”

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“In .7 kilometers, enter round about and take 2nd exit to Ulica Stanislawy Lesczynskieji”

It takes 2 GPS units, one Iphone and a lot of swearing, but Theresa and I finally make it out of the hotel parking lot in Krakow on our way to Auschwitz, the 1st concentration camp on our production trip. One GPS informs us we’ve “Left The Path”; the other keeps losing the Satellite reception. My Iphone is pleased to show me the route for $50 a minute and it promptly turns us down a one-way street with 10 other cars, where we come to a dead halt and must all back out into incoming traffic. Good times.

The Railroad Tracks at Auschwitz

We’re loaded down with camera gear and high expectations. One of the purposes of visiting concentration camps in Poland, Germany and Austria is to not only retrace the footsteps of the survivors whom I am interviewing in my new documentary, but photograph each camp for the film. I also need to decide whether or not the visuals we encounter at the camp warrant bringing my entire film crew here for live footage.

Though I have been to Dachau concentration camp several times, I have never been in Auschwitz. Neither has Theresa and we both have images in our head about what we expect to see and experience. The Auschwitz-Birkenau camp system is arguably the most well known and although none of the survivors in my documentary were processed through this camp, it is still a vital part of this trip. The Birkenau side of the camp housed a large population of Roma/Sinti’s (popularly known as the gypsies). This group, like the Jewish people, was targeted for complete annihilation. I recently discovered in the Dachau archives during my research this summer, Nazi historical documents the spoke of a “Final Solution to the Gypsy problem.”

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Theresa is sick of just talking to me and has been trying earnestly each evening to get locals to converse with her.  We are in yet another smoky bar where she is trying to chat up the crowd.  However, the young, hip Berliners with their slim cigarettes and practiced indifference are not proving to be a willing audience.   The longest conversation yet has been with a bartender who was obviously taking his bored indifference frustration out on me:

“I’ll have a Absolute Vodka Martini”

“You cannot.  You can have an Absolute.  Or a Vodka Martini, not both.”

“I can’t have a vodka martini made with Absolute?”

“Do you want a Vodka Martini?

“Yes, an Absolute Vodka Martini”

“You cannot”

“Fine, I will just have a Vodka Martini”

“I can make it with Absolute”

“So I can’t have an Absolute Vodka Martini, but I can have a vodka martini with Absolute?”

“Yes”

He struts away.  He better bring a very big drink. (He doesn’t)

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With less than an hour to go before leaving for the airport, I am busy trying to convince myself that the airport personal will not notice I need a chain hoist to lift my suitcase. Theresa has her own problems as her “one carry on and personal item” is actually five different bags. Granted, one is her lunch, which she plans on eating on the way to the airport – if she wasn’t already napping in the back seat of the car. She tells me anytime she is in a car over 45 minutes she falls asleep and that I can blame her parents for driving her around as a colicky baby. I am thinking ahead to the fact that we are spending the next few weeks DRIVING around Poland, Germany and Austria and anticipating my navigator dropping off like a narcoleptic every hour.

My still photographer Theresa and I are en route to Poland for the 2nd production trip for my new documentary “Forget Us Not”- a WWII holocaust piece about the 5 million non Jewish victims of the Nazi regime. After spending two weeks at the Dachau archives earlier this summer, I am now about to embark on a whirlwind tour of 3 countries; 13 cities; 7 concentration camps and 2 Interviews with holocaust survivors. No wonder Theresa is sleeping on the way to the airport.

Within short order we are boarding our Lufthansa flight to Poland via Frankfurt and I am excited by how spacious and comfy the business class seats look. Then I remember I am sitting in economy, which are NOT so spacious. Thank God for Yoga and the recent weight loss. With the plane loaded and ready to go, we back out of the gate and then proceed to lumber along the scenic back alleys of LAX for an hour to reach the runway. I feel like I am on a backlot studio tour. Theresa has brought a Polish phrase book and we are busy amusing ourselves with the “social” section which includes everything you need to know to hook up, have sex and breakup – all in Polish. Handy pet names are also included. We teach ourselves the following conversation:

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