Israelis, take heed: To remember is not to own
When I visited Saatz, not for a moment did I have the feeling that the place belongs to me or to my people because of the memories.
When I arrived last week in the town where my father was born, in the Sudeten region of the Czech Republic, I shivered. When I saw the sign at the entrance to the town I even thought of getting out of the car and kissing the ground. The hours I spent later in the town, whose name accompanied my childhood as a dull echo, caused emotional turmoil. Suddenly I discovered that some of my roots are there, in the remote...
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