The Jewish Cemetery (Židovský hřbitov), Rožmberk nad Vltavou, Czech Republic

Rožmberk nad Vltavou
One of the oldest Bohemian castles is located here, built in ~1250 AD. It is situated near the River Vlatavou where we have collected reed canarygrass (Phalaris arundinacea) at many sites. The town is so named as the Rozenbergs owned it until 1611 although numerous other royal occupants owned the town before and thereafter.


Here in the town are two Jewish cemeteries, Židovský hřbitov. The older one was first designated prior to 1480. Many Jews from South Bohemia, as well as those from nearby Linz, Austria (see earlier postings), were buried here until a Jewish cemetery was founded in that city. Some of the tombstones date back to 1598, according to an earlier posting: http://www.ckrumlov.info/img.php?img=8027&LANG=en


We looked and looked throughout the town but could not find this cemetery despite the specific directions of 100 m south of the town square, adjacent to the town wall near the street, Horni ulice. After looking for quite awhile and, seeing no one to ask more about its location, we ventured to the north side of town to look for the newer Židovský hřbitov. This was not in the designated location of some 500 m north of the town. Instead, it was approximately 2.5 km north of town! We had to keep driving and looking at every side road until we found it at the intersection of the road along with someone's driveway. It's true location is just south of the Penzion Studente on the west side of the road.
Again, no adjacent place to park our car, so we park north near the bus stop and walk to the cemetery gates...carefully walking through the rough 'field' of thawing Bohemian soil.
Here the gates are ajar!

 A small stairway leads up to the driveway that goes up the hill to a couple of farmer's homes.

 As we climb the stairs, we see the corner of this triangular cemetery that meets the two roads' intersection.

 Neil, being an avid Vermont stonewall builder and admirer always stops to look at the curvatures, the methods of stacking stone on stone and how they are held together to withstand the forces of frost heaving.

 Looking eastwards towards the Vltavo River tucked down in the small valley, the brown skeletons of deciduous trees float off from the spires of the cemetery markers--most of which, again, were replaced after the destruction wielded during the Nazi occupation of South Bohemia.

 Even the adjacent alder thicket (Alnus spp.) offer their own take on the cemetery markers, lifting them skyward...bouyant catkins of promise holding tomorrows' pollen.

 Another view of the wall from where the alder stands. It is invitational.

 This newer cemetery does not have any oak trees surrounding it at all (quite unusual), nor is there any evergreen ivy, Hedera helix, anywhere to be found. Perhaps this is due to the newer age of this cemetery, only dating back to the late 1800s. Were the oaks and ivy planted only in earlier times as permanent, living markers of grief and sorrow? We don't know.
There is, however, outside the gates, an escaped planting of Vinca major, periwinkle.  Glistening in the morning sun.

Ope the gates!
As we enter through the gates ajar, 

overhead from the soft maple just outside the walls, we look up and note someone's carefully positioned birdhouse. A woodpecker hammers out a greeting to us, having found some good source of morning bugs.  We stop and listen as we enter the gates.

The woodpecker stops. We faintly hear the drip of sap from the exterior maple hit the surrounding leaves. From cracks in its branches, it rains faint tears that each spring weeping on us fall.

Several older stones again are laden with stones of remembrance on top, melded with patinas of faintly green lichen.

 Others lean skyward against the stone wall,
Hebrew and German now filled with chartreuse lichen words.

Others artfully highlight in shadows, 

on northern sides:

Someone has visited recently, a drying sprig of silver dollar eucalyptus, Eucalyptus globulus, rests between stone and stonewall.

 Mark stoops to catch the shadows...cast from stones placed upon stones

It is where stone on stone intersects with wall

that we will meet you here;

 

Outside the walls, Lynn ascends the hill and Mark sits in quiet repose
soaking morning sun while looking at the adjacent barn.

Close by the barn, the intriguing method of attaching electric posts to solid concrete foundations frame his view.

They have markings on them....do they have meaning? Post marking identifiers? We cannot figure them out.

 The barn is coldly shaded beside the road,

 melding frost and snow of ground into the immortar foundation.

 

The roof peaks our interest,

another weathered triangle fusing stone cold walls

with skyward blues.

 To the sides, cold and darkened windows view the hill.

 Eastward from the barn

we see a front door and bird feeders...perhaps the builders of the one in the maple tree?

In coming here,
cold of stone on stone
lifts in rays
to where spring weeps
of maples
now and then.
Near-forgotten sorrows
melt us
in our tracks.

Disclaimer: This blog is not an official University of Minnesota or Fulbright Program blog. The views expressed are my own and not those of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. Department of State or any of its partner organizations, or the University of Minnesota.

The Jewish Cemetery (Židovský hřbitov), Ceske Budejovice, Czech Republic

In our continuing journey visiting the numerous Jewish cemeteries, Židovský hřbitov, in the Czech Republic we visited the local one here in Ceske Budejovice. This one is also called Jüdischer Friedhof Budweis (cf. http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=cr&CRid=2319440).
Our colleague Lynn had the map and directions to get to it. What was so surprising is that it was so close by and we had never seen it!
The Židovský hřbitov is located northeast of the train station in the middle of an industrial district....which was the big surprise for this particular cemetery. Being embedded in the midst of industry led to some unique and challenging views.
There was no 'parking lot' in which to park our car due to the chain in front of the cemetery, so we pulled off from the main road onto the grass. Here is the front wall that faces the busy street....a constant whir of light and heavy trucks rolling past, a gas line pumping station across the road. Hardly a quiet place of rest for anyone.

 To the right (east) of the main gate, the stone wall ends and gives way to this weathered wooden gate, followed by an old white metal surround. A strange combination attached to the main cemetery walls. We haven't seen anything like this before at other sites.

 When we turn to the right you can see a large Soviet era smoke stack rising above the industrial complexes.  What was behind the gate, we wondered? Mark discovered (see below....)!

 At the very corner of the metal fencing above, an old vine of hops, Humulus lupulus, entwines frozen in time. Then a stone wall and metal gate leads into an abandoned large parking lot with an industrial building (which we later see, is still in use).

 At the main gate, we see a sign that points us to the west to obtain a key (Klic). However, it is unclear exactly when one goes to get the key (we never found out).

 The gate handle does not move; again this one is locked shut.

 We peer through the gate to glimpse at what is contained therein.

 To the east of the gate is the Prayer House...silently reflecting the bright February sun. Behind the building is the eastern wall and the mysterious front walls that hide some additional buildings before the industrial complex starts.

Primarily newer stones dominate the cemetery landscape, indicating horrific events during the Nazi occupation here.

Ivy, Hedera helix, again predominates as the evergreen herbaceous perennial in this cemetery. Once again, a gravestone has become a 'shrub'--reminiscent of the ones we saw at Hluboka (earlier posting).

But the jarring industrial complexes surrounding this place of rest are everywhere. Here, adjacent to the western wall, two brewery trucks are parked...advertising the local--and original--Budvar or Budweiser beer (pivo).

Oak trees, Quercus spp., once again dominate this cemetery...this time with a line both inside and outside the western wall (which is fairly new in appearance, compared with the front wall).

A busy truck entry for the adjacent trucking firm on the west side bustles with activity.

As we move towards the wall and look over (since it is not very high), we get this view of the Prayer House which Mark artfully caught:

Neil and Mark gaze in all directions, trying to absorb this world of stark contrasts. How could we have missed this....having driven right past this a couple of times?
We ventured to the rear (north) of the cemetery along the outside walls and became trapped in the back....a dead end in the parking lot where a vehicle repair shop was humming with activity.

Now, coming back around to the front (south side) and heading to the east and through the gates of the adjacent industrial complex (albeit somewhat abandoned in appearance), again a line of oaks are outside the walls of this former parking lot...now an entangled 'field' of grasses.

And, to our amazement, in the northeast corner outside the cemetery walls hides a weathered 'cabin'...now abandoned. Was this a typical Bohemian 'summer cottage' next to their gardens? A caretakers home? We may never know.

As we come back around to the front, southeastern corner of the cemetery, Mark has an idea. He carefully removes the outer cover on his iPhone so it is now very slim in width and squeezes it through a small gap in the old wooden gate we showed you earlier to see what is behind the walls.....more abandoned 'cabins' or 'summer cottages' with once busy gardens.

Grape (Vitus spp.) and hop (Humulus lupulus) vines sprawl in entangled webs.

It must have belonged to some caretaker, as there is a wooden gate in front of the Prayer House walls, which leads into the southeastern corner of the cemetery.

As we leave, the brightness of the February sun shines down upon us....a combination of many types of stars. We still sit and wonder about the starkness, whirling surrounds, abandoned yet noisy soliloquy of this Židovský hřbitov. It is like none other.

Disclaimer: This blog is not an official University of Minnesota or Fulbright Program blog. The views expressed are my own and not those of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. Department of State or any of its partner organizations, or the University of Minnesota.