Day 25 – King’s Cross, Cousins, and Paella

Today was a London family day! Priscilla met an uncle from Iran, her aunt, and cousins she has known all her life but never seen in person, and the Bauers all spent time with a cousin from my paternal grandfather’s Viennese family.

We met with Irit and her daughter Eynat at platform 9 and 3/4 in King’s Cross. We have met before, but not for over a decade. My grandfather and grandmother were Holocaust survivors who lost almost all their families. The Red Cross was instrumental in helping survivors find family members in the late 1940s after the war.

My grandfather was put in contact with one cousin, Lisl. Lisl moved with her mother and father to Palestine in 1938 and thus escaped the relocations and transports. While my grandfather was 6 or 7 years older than Lisl, they remembered each other fondly and maintained a relationship for the rest of their lives.

My grandparents settled in Due West, South Carolina, and Lisl married a man from Budapest and lived the rest of her life in Israel. (When I was 21, I briefly met Lisl in Israel.) Despite never wanting to return, Lisl traveled to Vienna with my grandfather and family. Lisl’s daughter is Irit, and her granddaughter is Eynat. Jen and Irit connected through geni.com years ago; we have kept in contact since then.

After connecting in King’s Cross, we went to Granary Square. There were water fountains for the children to play in, stone benches, and large displays defining and imagining “queer joy.”

Looming over the square were massive gas works, which were reworked to integrate modern circular flats on their interior. Old mill buildings were gutted and filled with high-end boutiques, and the entire area was filled with artisan carts, lounge chairs, canvas bean bags, and potted plants. It was lovely and clearly a revitalization of a previously dubious locale.

We easily fell into conversation as we looked for a spot for tea and snacks. Nat told me a bit about her studies in art therapy and recent training in family constellation therapy. This concept sees therapy as three-dimensional and integrates family history and past familial trauma and experiences into understanding present experiences and emotions. (Okay – some of that may be incorrect – I am explaining my understanding – and it sounds fascinating.) Nat had to leave by noon, but we got loads of good book recommendations for the kids and enjoyed some snacks together.

Family connections over continents and time help me better understand my past. My grandfather’s family apartment in Vienna was taken by an officer in the Nazi party my grandfather had once tutored. Similarly, an officer took Lisl’s family home; however, Irit explained how this ultimately saved her family. Their family applied for a visa to relocate to Palestine, and he had learned of their request. He stopped by to ask when they might be vacating their home. They didn’t know that he preemptively transferred the apartment into his own name.

Irit told me about her mother’s memory of sitting on a bed in her room with her parents on either side of her, waiting and listening as their Jewish neighbors were dragged out of their apartments. They listened to the shouts, fear, and anger and waited for someone to come and knock at their door. No one ever came because the apartment was not registered to a Jewish family. Instead, it was registered to a Nazi party officer. 

This is one small story of the Holocaust, a story of a Jewish family, a story from my family. Nat and I are the same age and come from grandparents who were cousins living in Vienna at the same time during their youth. Nat’s mother grew up in Isreal, speaking Hebrew, German, and English and practicing Judaism. My father was born in the Dominican Republic and lived in South Carolina, about an hour from where my grandparents entered the United States and made their home.

We live worlds apart, yet we both know that any good meal table is set with a small bowl of mini gherkins. We hold in our hearts the traumas of our grandparents and of the Jewish people. We understand the need for dignity as we age, and we hold close the value of our word as bond.

All of these revelations were made while watching the children spin on fun chairs while we sat in brightly colored lounge chairs; while sharing curry and paella purchased from street vendors; while sipping peppermint tea and munching on dark chocolate and sea salt cookies; while asking the children to keep their hands to themselves; while watching those same children giggle and dance and laugh in the public fountains.

I think Lisl and Felix would have gotten a kick out of the whole visit. Lisl might have been more sentimental and in awe of the time, while Felix would have told us we were funny – while secretly being quite pleased.

This relaxed day of hanging out and eating was topped with a walk to our apartment along the river. We watched while boats were lowered and lifted in the locks and went on their way. It was the perfect way to start our time in England.