The travel schedule has me at sixes and sevens so we're going to take a non-linear approach to my ramblings for the next bit. I'll come back to my day in Old Town in Krakow at some point. I'm on the other side of a brief stay in Kazimierz Dolny, a sleepy little town about 3 hours outside Krakow en route to Lublin, where I am now, finally with a down evening where I have time to catch up on some writing. I have a longer post about this town that I'll share soon, but I wanted to do a quick update on this weird thing I ran into.
In Kazimierz Dolny, every tourist stand sells a version of the "Lucky Jew" folderol. I now know the word for these trinkets because I came back to our swank hotel and googled "What's the deal with the antisemitic tourist items in Poland"?
These things are wildly inappropriate. I snapped photos of a couple with my camera when a shop keeper wasn't looking, and the rest are with my cell phone so some image quality is sketchy.
(click first image to open gallery with descriptions)
It's an interesting story, actually. You can find a great write up here if you want a deep dive, but I've snipped some quotes from the author Ewa Tartakowsky below.
While its diffusion is recent, the image of the “Jew with the gold coin” is rooted in the history of popular representations of Jews in Poland. In fact, this image is linked to two Polish proverbs from before the Second World War, and it is often accompanied by one of these proverbs. The first, “A Jew in the entrance hall, money in the pocket” (Żyd w sieni, pieniądz w kieszeni), suggested that as long as Jews remained at the entrance, the money in the house was safe. This meaning is now reversed: the picture of a Jew in the entrance hall inverts cash flows and their capture. Money then falls from the Jew’s pocket into that of the picture’s lucky owner. Joanna Tokarska-Bakir emphasizes that: “Given the power of connotations associated with contemporary history, this maxim takes on a bitter meaning, as it alludes to how Poles enriched themselves when they protected the Jews."
The second proverb, “He who has no Jew at home is moneyless,” (Kto nie ma w domu Żyda, temu bida), exemplifies a similar inversion of an original meaning. The latter stems from an earlier maxim, “When poverty comes, go to the Jews” (Kiedy bida, to do Żyda), which refers to money-lending activities once practiced only by Jews. It is well known that starting in the second half of the Middle Ages, all professions were forbidden to Jews except for usury, which was condemned by the Catholic Church. These two proverbs have recently given rise to other variants, such as the following (Polish) rhyme: “If you want the money to stay home, and to never leave the house, keep a Jew at home, he will keep the cash.
I am extending a lot of grace to this fractured land, but this one baffles me. I cannot imagine being on the other side of the Shoah and thinking this is a good idea.
More soon.