"We have tried at Etz Hayyim to be a small presence in the midst of what is at times almost aggressive ignorance..."
This quote is from Nicholas Stavroulakis, historian, artist and archivist who has restored one of the two former synagogues in Chania back to life.
This quote is from Nicholas Stavroulakis, historian, artist and archivist who has restored one of the two former synagogues in Chania back to life.
On the day we visit in September 2015, there is still an intense heat. We walk past bright banks of bougainvillaea, garlanding the old brick walls and cascading down the sides of the small lanes. Eating houses compete with gift shops; with family homes but the synagogue set back in a closed lane is a quiet oasis deep in the back streets of the old Venetian port.
Initially we had gone on Shabbat but it was closed. A few days later we return and it is open. Cats move sinuously through the shaded garden, into the cool interior of the synagogue and occupy cushions on the pews. While outside at a table in the shade the imam talks quietly with visitors and drinks cups of peppermint tea. A steady flow of visitors appears through the open gate in the wall, mainly retirees in holiday clothes from cruise ships at anchor outside the harbour. Americans, Europeans and some Israelis. Most are charmed and interested in the building; its story of underlying tragedy, absorbing the longevity of its previous history as a centre and anchor here. A once thriving Jewish community.There is a sense of pride for Jewish visitors to Etz Hayyim in its renaissance. We are also humbled by what this represents. A victory in the darkness of ignorance.
A few visitors, on finding it is not orthodox and is open to all comers get in a snot as if exposed to something unclean. There is something sad, old and stale in the way they flounce out, outraged by this presence, something so beautiful and purifying. Others fire rapid questions at the caretaker/guide in Hebrew, French, Greek, English and German. She is a calm, beautiful Australian, impassioned about her charge. She answers thoughtfully, erudite, factual, weaves strands of a story that is both heart breaking and inspiring. "Out of the original community of over three hundred at the outbreak of World War Two, and following the German occupation of Crete, only seven returned to Crete at the war's end. Yes this building was stolen, squatted, desecrated, used as a barn for animals, a rubbish tip and even urinal."
Without the vision and hard work of Nicholas Stravroulakis and those who assisted on this project, this would not have become a memorial. And I beg to differ, rather than a small presence-it is a powerful symbol of renewal and hope. As well as a deeply moving memorial for a people who only recently, lived, breathed, loved and moved through the streets surrounding Etz Hayyim.
*Stained Glass, Montparnasse Cemetery, Paris 2015. Out of respect visitors are asked not to take photographs inside the synagogue and its grounds.
*Stained Glass, Montparnasse Cemetery, Paris 2015. Out of respect visitors are asked not to take photographs inside the synagogue and its grounds.
CHANIA
History twists at your guts
See! It has happened
Nothing will change this imprint
Though not all of it is yet complete
Nor clear, of things that can be explained
…And let alone, understood
I stand in the shade of this building
A synagogue on a hot day
And I do not, I cannot pray
Over three thousand years
Erased
It sinks, a big stone
Under a sea of human grief
Voices, each unique, drown, fade
Or call from a depth I cannot reach
And only small words survive
If at all, maybe only fragments
That I do not know…are still carried by the tide
To tell us of…what happened, here
How could such a thing as this be?
And what may have been
If this rich tapestries of lives had continued
To breathe and love and work and fight
And die in other ways than this
It is something to exterminate an entire community
It is something to sink to the bottom of the sea so much that is such
It is something to sink to the bottom of the sea so much that is such
In that shadow, a child whispers
Others play in the square in front of the church
Kick a football, skip and sing
Others play in the square in front of the church
Kick a football, skip and sing
Beneath that tree, an old person groans
And in the light that falls from outside
A fisherman’s shout as he makes land
A woman teaches a neighbour to cook
A woman teaches a neighbour to cook
And from such a sparsity of words
We start a whole story or so we try
“Seven people returned here out of
A community of three hundred”
If I could name the two hundred and ninety three
who did not, I would
If I could say the names
Of those who drowned
I should, each and every one
If I could say the names
Of those who drowned
I should, each and every one
And at Etz Hayyim each year 9 June
One by one they are named
Each one remembered
One by one they are named
Each one remembered
It is if I think hard enough
This rock will crack and part and empty
And I will understand
This absence, why this should be
Where have those lovers gone?
The blind, the lame and the vain?
Where are the ones who fell out over stupid things
Where are the ones who fell out over stupid things
Those who always believed there was a tomorrow
The pious who came here to bow and in Hebrew spoke to their God
And in Greek spoke of their love of life
And in Greek spoke of their love of life
And those who brought groceries
Gossiped, grasped and gave to charity
Or met their children from school
Or sat by the harbour drinking coffee in the heat
Until the sun turned red and bled across the ocean
Washing bone mixed with stone, shell and sand
On this day, I place a stone on the white tomb
Of a rabbi long dead but who once stood shawled
In this house of shared prayer and sang
Such is the song of eternal love
Such is the song of eternal love
Oh that this should be a rock, a mountain of remembrance
Or that this should be a house of eternal remembrance
Or that this should be a house of eternal remembrance
Oh so many pebbles of grief of those never laid at rest
But trapped, sank to the bottom of the sea
And I grieve, I remember and I grieve
Chania September 2015
I thank Dr Alexandra Ariotti for her sharing of this story
I thank Dr Alexandra Ariotti for her sharing of this story
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