The day before Yom Kippur in Ostrava.

The memorial for the Jews killed in the hands of the Nazis lies in the middle of A small park. The sculpted dark menorah is bleak and lifeless, melting into the abstract formless granite base. I saw an old man walking his dog there. what did he know? Did he even care? I walked on, over A bridge toward the town center. There is A women who smiles at me every time I walk past her office. I walk in. We talk. She tells me she love to dance Salsa. We agree to meet sometime, somewhere. I walk on into the center. The Cathedral is very large. I pass it and walk on toward the town center. The money changers are not kind here; thats too bad. I would rather change my money with A smile.