the Soviet monument, a bronze-like mess filled with Soviet
masculinity, you take a cement path - past the Metro to the
first monument dedicated to the "children who were shot at
Babi Yar, 1941". The only acknowledgement that the victims
were Jewish is a subtly sculpted yamakah on one of the figures - so slight, so obviously obscured.
path is long and one becomes anxious as to whether the menorah
monument has been missed. Mothers and grandmothers are taking
walks with prams. We stop to ask where the Menorah Monument is
and the people do not know. I take a deep breath - it
suddenly dawns on me that for the current inhabitants of the
park, the space is just that, a park, with a soccer field.
The very reason this location was put on the map for me, is
merely incidental to them.
very old man in his 80's, 90's walks past. Where I would
normally avert my eyes at the appropriate distance, I look
straight into his gray eyes for some sign of
remorse. He was 20 or 30 when at all happened. What
would have been his role? I shudder.