Last Weekend, Slovakia
I finally left Vienna about 2 pm Sat, heading for the birthplace of my Grandmother, Kotesova, Slovakia. It was mostly easy highway driving, a combination of castles and nuclear power plants, and I arrived about 5 pm. On the ride, I was thinking about Mom. I wish she could have been in the car, along with a sister or two.
The village of Kotesova is small, rural, at the widening of the river. I asked a couple, outside with their dog, if there was a hotel or pension. They told me, not in English, either Bytca or Oblazov Kotesova. The latter was the one I had seen on the internet. I spent a pleasant night. The menu had horse and some creature’s knees. I had a great four cheese pizza. Beautiful clear skies, Suzie and I walked up the hill behind the pension for a sky full of stars. Across the road from Hriechov Pension is a horse school. I had a romantic fantasy of my grandmother Sadie and my grandfather, William, meeting there. My father used to kid that William was a horse thief. I think they actually met in Chicago.
Left the hotel the next morning about ten. My plan was to explore and see if I could find a Jewish cemetery. I came to the turn off for Kotesova and I turned away from the village, up into the mountains. It was a beautiful fall morning, folloing the stream, few people out. Passed through Kotsova Bukova, to Velke Rovne. Turned around and passed a few groups going to church. I realized even though there was little English around, I had to ask, I wasn’t going to find it on my own.
Found a place to pull over by the stream/river. A group of men with a table of beer bottles were at a picnic bench. Suzie and I got out and walked a bit. I drew a picture of a headstone with a Jewish star. Across the street, a woman was locking up a shop. I decided to try her first. No English, little help, so I approached the table of men. Little English, but cemetery is about the same in Slovakian. I showed them my other papers, in Slovakian, my great grandmother’s birth certificate, and marriage certificate, showing Fani Zelenkova born and married in Kotesova. The word Rabinat at the top, got across the Jewish part. They sent me back up the mountain to the cemetery I had passed. I drove back up, perhaps there was a Jewish section. There wasn’t. The people I asked in the cemetery suggested Bytca, the nearest town. I waved to the table of men as I drove past, but I went back to the village of Kotesova instead.
In the village is a small coffee shop/bar. The woman working there ignored me. The guy outside with his son said “No English., As I was leaving, he called over to another table of men. One of them asked if I spoke German. At that table the German speaker was helpful. There was another car parked there, probably his, with Vienna license plates. He assured me in a combination of German and English that there was a cemetery, in fact two and a synagogue. They drew me a map, which led me right back to the other table of men.
Now that I thought it existed, I was even more determined. I went back to them and tried to communicate again. One man told me his “frau” spoke English. He got in the car with me and we drove down the street. His wife came out Alona?, and she spoke English very well. She knew nothing about a Jewish cemetery. She suggested her husband take me to a neighbor about five houses down, he works in city hall.
I said I appreciated it, but it is Sunday and I don’t want to disturb anyone. They called and we walked over. Next thing I know, I’m sitting at his kitchen table. They discussed the names, they didn’t recognize Zelenka. He said he would try to find out and I gave him my card. I explained that I didn’t expect to find a house or property, but perhaps a grave. He knew of a Jewish cemetery. I was to follow them.
We drove about a half mile out of town. I left my car in the grass where we turned onto a gravel road. We went about a quarter mile and he stopped. On the hillside next to us was an old Jewish cemetery. We had to work through trees and brush. I was standing among toppled gravestones. Hebrew writing and some dates, script in Hungarian?, moss covered headstones, tree branches everywhere. Some stones so old the writing was gone. There were a few big ones still standing. Jeanette Spitzer, one of them read. I asked who owned the land. He answered, “The Jews”. I had no idea what to do standing amid all those toppled stones. I can’t believe I didn’t take one picture. I told Alona I would have to come back. She had not known this existed. They dropped me off at my car with many thanks. They suggested going to the municipality in Bytac on Monday.
I took pictures of the road and surroundings, to help me find it again. The city hall man, whose name I didn’t get, measured on the way down for me, it is 100 meters from the house as you start up. It is 2 or 3 pm and I have to get back to Vienna. I went to Bytac, saw the synagogue and some charming buildings. They are working on the town square and I bet it will be cute.
I had mapped out a route home that was not highway. Why go the same way twice? So I headed to Zilina, taking route 64. I enjoy driving through the villages, even though the speed limit is 60 and takes twice as long. It was a gorgeous fall afternoon, the colors were spectacular,some of the best I’ve ever seen. Some spas along the way, good vacation spot. I turned off to Cicmany, charming village of traditional house. Didn’t get home until almost 10 pm, but what a weekend!
