Tour of Poland, part 1

After a very long trip from Kansas City to Toronto to Frankfurt, I finally arrived in Warsaw, Poland, in the mid-afternoon on June 14.  I felt increasingly out of place during the final leg of the trip from Frankfurt to Warsaw-Chopin, aboard Lufthansa, and I felt like I was finally entering a place different to western European cultures I was used to.  

The cab driver who took me to the Polonia Palace Hotel in downtown Warsaw was friendly enough – to me.  As soon as we pulled away from the taxi stand at the airport, however, another automobile cut us off – in a very minor way in my opinion – and my taxi driver actually forced the car to the side of the road, got out of our car, and loudly berated the driver in angry, machine-gun, Polish.  That was different.  But then he got back in and was friendly as can be to me.  “How do you like our city?”, he asked.

We passed a large cemetery with a vast array of monuments and I asked him what it was.  He replied that it was a Russian monument with graves of Russian soldiers and that we don’t care about that (it was actually the Soviet Military Cemetery commemorating Soviet soldiers who died in World War II).  He also pointed out the large Palace of Culture looming in the distance and said that he’d like to see it torn down.  All along the way I noticed that the Poles obviously don’t value green grass and landscaping the way we do in USA.  The median in the wide boulevard we were cruising along was overgrown with weeds and none of the bushes or trees were well-trimmed.  The taxi driver pointed out how pretty was the city’s landscaping.  To my American eyes it all looked unkempt but that’s just me.  As we passed one restaurant the driver pointed out that it was the best American-style sports bar in the city – best hamburgers around.  Actually, that’s not what I was looking for.

Polonia Palace Hotel, Warsaw

Palace of Culture and Science, Warsaw

The cab driver’s attitude toward the Russian and Soviet monuments belied a general attitude that I’d see a lot of later on.  Poland and Russia have historically been the two major Slavic cultures in northeastern Europe and they’ve continuously challenged one another for hegemony over the area.  In the very early Medieval period, Poland had the upper hand and even as late as the times of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Poland was the largest country in Europe, geographically speaking.  But Russia in the 17^th Century was growing in strength and by the time of the Partitions (last quarter of the 18^th Century) completely overshadowed and dominated Poland.  In fact, Poland even ceased to exist during the 19^th Century as a separate political entity.  After World War I, Poland briefly re-surfaced as the Second Republic was set up by the victors of the greater war, and Russia was hobbled by its own civil war (after the Bolshevik Revolution of October, 1917).  During World War II, when Poland was invaded from the west by the Nazis, Stalin little by little took over from the east, setting up total Soviet domination in the post-war era.  Finally, in the 1980s, Poland was able to shake off its communist chains (as well as Russian domination) and by 1999 had even joined NATO (a spectacular turnaround for the country that provided the namesake for the Warsaw Pact).

After arriving at the Polonia Palace, I got settled in my room and tried to turn the air conditioner down as far as it could go.  I’d learn quickly that air conditioning in Poland is not what I’m used to in the USA.  Granted, it was unusually hot in Warsaw at the time – over 90 degrees Fahrenheit – but none of the air conditioners seemed to be able to cope with that kind of summer heat.

Out on the street, the afternoon sun was brutal as it beat down on the sidewalks.  I struggled to find a place to cross wide Jerozolimskie (Jerusalem) Street.  I finally used the underground tunnel system and was able to navigate my way to the Palace of Culture, directly across the street from the hotel.  This building was Stalin’s final gift to the Polish people.  He built it as a monument to communism, a gift to the Poles, but they were taxed heavily to fund building the huge structure, still the tallest building in the city.  Thanks Uncle Joe.  The building is sometimes referred to as the “Eighth Sister”, the only one of a series of buildings known as the Seven Sisters that stands outside of the City of Moscow.

Dinner that night was an introduction to the rest of the trip – introduction to the other folks on the tour, to our tour guide, and to Polish food (which means lots of soup).  Tonight, it was pea soup and afterwards I had a good time getting to know some of my travel companions.  Our Polish tour leader had actually been a companion of Peter J. Klassen, the recently-deceased California history professor who kind of “started” Mennonite touring in Poland after the fall of the communist regime.  We would come to learn that our guide, among many other Polish folks, was a very kind man who had a great appreciation for Mennonite culture and the contributions our ancestors made to the history of his homeland.

The next day began with a tour of Warsaw.  Beginning with the Łazienki Park, we also saw Chopin monuments (Frédéric Chopin, number 1 citizen of Poland), and a newly constructed Jewish history museum.  The guide’s main focus throughout all this was the events of World War II and how the Polish people, including the local Jewish population, suffered.  While this is indeed true and while I agree that the people suffered horribly, I wished there would have been a little more about the history of earlier time periods.  Mennonites lived in Poland beginning in the period known as the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, or the First Republic (the Commonwealth was established in 1569 while Mennonites also began coming to this land in the mid-16^th Century), and Warsaw was a major city in that time period.  I wished we could have seen some sights or talked a bit more about the 16^th – 19^th Centuries instead of delving so deeply into WWII.

Poland has a long and very colorful history and the Mennonites contributed to the culture starting in the 16^th Century.  Poland proper is the area south and west of Warsaw, itself in a region historically known as Masovia.  The areas north of Poland proper are Pomerania (Kashubia), Kuyavia, and Prussia.  The place-name of Prussia is one that is very familiar to Low German Mennonites even through it’s probably often misunderstood.

Historical Regions of Poland

The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, or the First Republic, was the joint-Polish and -Lithuanian kingdom that rose after the heights of the domination of the Teutonic Knights.  These Germanic knights focused their attentions, when they were done in the Holy Land, on the Prussian tribes that lived in Pomerania, Warmia, and Lithuania along the coasts of the Baltic Sea.  The Prussians were not Christians and the Knights received a commission from the Pope himself to convert the Baltic tribe.

In time, the Knights set up a large kingdom with the western edge bordering the Holy Roman Empire (German States), then extending all along the Baltic, controlling areas as far north and east as Estonia.  During these times they did a lot of work bringing in German and Dutch farmers to convert the river lowlands in these areas (Oder, Vistula, Neman, etc.) into productive farmland.  However, by the mid-16^th Century, the Knights were in decline and after the Battle of Grunwald (Tannenberg), were defeated by united Polish and Lithuanian forces and lost the upper hand in the area.  The lands bordering the Baltic Sea on the west side of the Vistula (centered at Danzig) became known as Royal Prussia (later termed West Prussia after the 1770s).  The term “Royal” was a nod to the fact that this area was directly held by the King of Poland.  Ducal Prussia (later known as East Prussia), on the east side of the Vistula, was the remnant of the kingdom of the Teutonic Knights which survived after Grunwald even though these Dukes afterwards owed allegiance to the king in Poland.  Generally speaking, after Grunwald, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was ruled by the King of Poland who usually set up his court in Warsaw.

The old city of Warsaw is a fascinating place even though all the buildings have been rebuilt after being leveled during in WWII.  The highpoint, for me, was the first view of the Vistula River.  This is the river that my ancestors would have known.  This is the mother-river to me.  This is the river that caused the Mennonites to come to Poland, that sustained and tortured them.  This river would have been absolutely central to their lives and here it was before me.  “[T]he river is in all places at once, at its source and where it flows into the sea, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the rapids, in the ocean, in the mountains, everywhere at once, so for the river there is only the present moment.  This [river] flowed and flowed, it was constantly flowing, and yet it was always there; it was always eternally the same and yet new at every moment” (Herman Hesse, Siddhartha).

Vistula River outside Warsaw, Poland

The river was the reason the Mennonites were invited to come to Royal Prussia.  Its frequent flooding caused the low-lying surrounding areas to be border-line uninhabitable.  The Mennonites, through the employment of dikes, ditches, and dams, as well as pumps and windmills, turned the whole delta/valley area into productive farmland.  The Vistula sometimes flooded annually upon the Spring thaw.  Upriver areas would thaw before downriver areas.  Therefore, water would rush northwards where the river was still icebound.  With nowhere to go, the water would exceed the limits of the banks and flood.  Mennonites were able to manage this in ways the locals couldn’t seem to do.

Vistula Delta region before and after the Mennonites.  Note how much flooded land has been reclaimed.

Lunch in Old Warsaw was at a pierogi restaurant at the north corner of the Old City Market and then we took in a grueling Chopin recital.  I was already suffering from jetlag and a hot and stuffy hotel room.  After walking most of the morning we then ate a large, heavy lunch.  Without much time to digest, we were ushered into a very intimate recital room and served champagne.  As I sat, with a little touch of alcohol on my tongue, I struggled mightily to stay awake.  Simultaneously, the Polish air conditioner struggled (fairly unsuccessfully) to move a little of thick air.  I could actually feel the beads of sweat running down my back as I tried to keep my eyes open.  The uber-talented pianist played beautifully and the pieces were absolutely sublime but the performance would have been better served, for me, after a good nap somewhere in a cool breeze.  Chopin was brilliant but he’s no match for a warm room and a poor night sleep!

Old City, Warsaw

We were given a short break at the hotel and then we again loaded up in the bus and went to a choral performance by a Mennonite group in a beautiful old white, Lutheran church.  Again, the music and setting were fantastic but the timing just unfortunate since I was so sleepy.

The next morning, I was up early and super-excited to leave Warsaw and finally start seeing some historical Mennonite sites.  We hit the road north out of Warsaw and soon were approaching the former Masovian Mennonite settlement of Deutsch Kazun. 

Kazun and neighboring Wymysle were two of the latest Mennonite settlements in Poland.  The greater Mennonite settlements in Poland were begun in the mid-16^th Century while these two weren’t established until the 18^th Century.  Generally speaking, the ancestors of the Low German Mennonites in Poland came from the Lowlands on the northwest coast of Europe beginning in the mid-16^th Century.  After the Reformation came the Radical Reformation and a lot of Anabaptist activity began in the low countries, including the regions known as Flanders, Friesland, Holland, Utrecht, Brabant, etc. (regions where the Dutch language was widely spoken), as well as in Switzerland, Moravia, and Bohemia.  The Low German-speaking Anabaptists of the Low Countries (in both these terms, the “Low” here is an expression of elevation.  The Low countries were low lying areas in northwest Europe and many of the residents spoke dialects of Low German – as opposed to the High German spoken by those of the areas of higher elevation inland) very soon began to have issues with the Catholic overlords and after wars broke out in the Lowlands around 1526, these Low German Anabaptists began to look for a safe place to move.

The lands in the northern areas of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth – namely Royal Prussia – were a perfect fit.  First of all, the Commonwealth government had adopted an early form of religious Liberty and this was very appealing to the Anabaptists (who, during this time began to take the name Mennist or Mennonite, after their leader Menno Simons) who were currently being heavily persecuted for their religious beliefs by their Catholic overlords in the low countries.  Furthermore, Royal Prussia was in shambles.  In earlier times under the Teutonic Knights, the flooded areas of the Vistula delta and valley had been converted into farmland.  However, following the wars between the Knights and the Poles in the 15^th Century, the area fell into neglect and much land was lost to the floods of the river.  The Poles by the 16^th Century realized that the farmers of the Lowlands, including the Mennonites, held unique skills that could be put to work in Prussia.  These people had already drained the low-lying areas in Friesland and the Hollands, could they not do that in Prussia too?

Further, there were economic and cultural ties which made a move from the Lowlands to Royal Prussia feasible.  Some West Prussian cities, such as Gdańsk (Danzig) and Elbląg (Elbing), already were close trading partners with Dutch cities such as Amsterdam and Rotterdam.  These partnerships had been developed in centuries past during the period of the Hanseatic League, an alliance of trading partners including many cities along the North and Baltic Seas.  The Hansa Cities used as their practical language a dialect of Low German and therefore Low German Mennonites coming from, for instance, Harlem or Groningen or Dordrecht or Leyden, could move to Gdańsk or Elbląg and be comfortable with the language.  Ships very commonly sailed back and forth from Rotterdam or Antwerp to Gdańsk and Elbląg, themselves cities very much with a Dutch flavor to their art and culture.  (I should point out here that the notion that Low German is only a spoken language and not written, is simply myth.  In fact, to the contrary, Low German was written just as much as any other.  There were many different dialects of Low German.  In the Lowlands, Dutch, as well as dialects of Low German, were commonly spoken languages.[1])

Mennonites started coming into Danzig during the first half of the 16^th Century and soon established themselves as able farmers.  These Mennonites leased lands in the flooded areas in the Vistula delta and valley.  After they were drained, these silt-covered areas proved to be extremely productive farmland and some Mennonites did quite well farming here.  Other Mennonites established themselves in the larger towns as distillers or weavers or artisans or craftsmen.  They were never altogether accepted in Polish or Prussian society, since their religion was outside the norm of the local Catholics or Lutherans, but they were tolerated since they added so much to the economy.  The almighty dollar – or złoty – was in reality calling the shots. 

In Gdańsk, Mennonites seemed to always be on the defensive.  Gdańsk was controlled by the merchant guilds, themselves controlled by Lutherans.  These guilds saw the Mennonites as economic threats.  However, the king and other nobles (Catholics), who simply benefitted from strong economy, welcomed the Mennonites.  In the king’s eyes, the Mennonites equated to more money in the royal coffers.  The City of Elbląg was slightly different in that it was not controlled by Lutheran guilds.  Mennonites generally had an easier go in Elbląg but this city wasn’t as economically vibrant as was Gdańsk.[2]

Deutsch Kazun was established in mid-18^th Century by Mennonites from further north up the Vistula valley.  The building which formerly served as the church in Deutsch Kazun is located on the south side of the highway near Kazuń Nowy, the name by which the village is known today.  People are now using the building as a house and I marveled at how they were actually living in the dilapidated structure.  After looking at the building, we continued west from Kazuń and stopped at a resort in the middle of the beautiful forest for a bathroom break.  The resort, the Hotel Kawallo (Leonów 7a, 09-533 Leonów, Poland), is a fantastic new facility in the middle of the woods adjoining the historic Black Forest (Czarna Woda) region.  They offer amenities such as bicycling or horse-back riding through the woods as well as carriage rides and general activities aimed at wellness and good health.  The surrounding forest was breathtaking as the pines reached for the sky.  The hotel seemed to even have several aurochs in a pen behind the buildings which I found very curious.

Early on during the morning of driving, I started noticing the large stork nests on the peaks of houses and on telephone poles or street lights.  These were the same storks that my ancestors wrote about in Volyn.  They were good luck in Volyn and I assumed they were likewise here in Poland.  The huge storks sat in the nests and occasionally one would stand at the crest of a roof just like a little man (Over the next days we would see storks all over the areas where we traveled.).  I also noticed crews of harvesters in strawberry fields along the highway.  The tour guide indicated that these workers were traveling crews coming from Ukraine to make a little extra money in the wealthier country of Poland.

Soon we arrived in Deutsch Wymysle, today known as Nowe Wymyśle, and I was excited to see the church building where Ratzlaffs from Przechowka worshipped as late as the inter-war period.  A Mennonite house also stood nearby and it was really meaningful to see our first Mennonite architectural structures.  I took special note of the metal fixtures on the windows which were skillfully made so long ago by Mennonite craftsmen. 

Wymysle Mennonite church building

Wymysle, similar to Kazun, had been founded in the 18^th Century by Mennonites coming from farther north up the valley.  The Mennonites, very early centered at Gdańsk and Elbląg, began moving up the Vistula valley even by the mid-16^th Century.  I should also point out that there were, in the 16^th Century, also Mennonites arriving in the valley from the Swiss/Moravian communities of Anabaptists.  By the late 16^th Century, Mennonites had established themselves all along the delta and valley, from Gdańsk all the way south to Toruń (Thorn).

This whole area, along the banks of the river, was covered with Mennonite farms; Mennonites who established 14 gemeinden (communities, brotherhoods, or congregations).  The delta-area gemeinden included Danzig, Elbing, Barwalde, Heubuden, Ladekop, Orlofferfelde, Rosenort, Tiegenhagen, and Thiensdorf, while the valley-area gemeinden included Tragheimerweide, Montau, Schonsee, Przechowka, and Obernessau.  In typical Mennonite fashion, there were theological and cultural issues upon which these gemeinden could not agree and factions soon developed.  Actually, the factions originated in the Lowlands and carried over into Polish Prussia and the factions actually carried names from their original locations: the Flemish and the Frisians.  It wasn’t quite as simple a division as this but very generally speaking those two terms cover it.  The Flemish gemeinden included Danzig, Elbing, Heubuden, Barwalde, Ladekop, Rosenort, Tiegenhagen, and Przechowka.  The Frisians included Thiensdorf, Tragheimerweide, Montau, Schonsee, and Obernessau (that’s way too oversimplified, but there it is).  It should be pointed out that, among all these, Przechowka was really an outlier.  Not to get caught in the weeds with all the details but Przechowka was the only Grongingen Old Flemish gemeinde in Polish Prussia AND it was probably the only one that had significant roots with the Swiss/Moravian group (the other Flemish gemeinden were Flemish, Old Flemish, or Danziger Old Flemish, but not Grongingen Old Flemish).  I should also point out that two gemeinden probably existed in Danzig from a very early time – one Flemish and one Frisian.  Also, before they were separated, Barwalde, Ladekop, Rosenort, and Tiegenhagen all formed one congregation: the Gross Werder Gemeinde.

Mennonite Gemeinden in 18th Century Poland

The Flemish and Frisians differed in several important ways but it’s also good to remember that these divisions became less and less pronounced over time.  The Flemish tended to be more urban, more democratic, and stricter (in respect to theology).  The Frisians were more rural, more authoritarian, and more liberal (in respect to theology).  Flemish tended to live closer to one another so, for instance, all were involved in gemeinde business.  Frisians, living more spread out in the countryside, their gemeinden sometimes had to take action without involving all the congregants.  The scriptures had never been translated into Low German so the Mennonites needed to use versions of the Bible from other languages.  The Flemish opted for Dutch while the Frisians used High German.  Generally speaking, the Frisians were more prone to assimilation with local culture while the Flemish, with their stricter theology, really tried to stick to their old ways.[3] 

So, after all that explanation, I can finally say that Wymysle was basically a daughter community to Przechowka – that is to say that the congregants here aligned themselves with the faction of Mennonites known as Groningen Old Flemish.  And in Low-German-Mennonite speak – all Grongingen Old Flemish in Prussia originate at Przechowka.  After Wymysle, we stopped along the Vistula at an outdoor restaurant for lunch, the Gościniec Pod Żaglami (87-815 Smólnik, Skoki Duże, Poland).  Another fantastic bowl of soup was had alongside a wonderful view of the river.  I called my Dad from here, along the banks of the Vistula, to wish him a happy Father’s Day. 

The Vistula River

After lunch we were bound for the Toruń area where we’d stop on the south side of the Vistula for a tour at the Olenderski Park Etnograficzny at Mała Nieszawka.  The museum is actually located on Mennonite Street (Mennonitow Ulica) in the small town and is directly adjacent to the Obernessau cemetery.  Obernessau was the farthest south of the original Mennonite valley gemeinden, having been established already as early as perhaps even the first quarter of the 16^th Century.  Among others, the museum has reconstructions of a Mennonite house from Niedźwiedź (Niedwitz, a village of the Przechowka Gemeinde) and a servant’s house from Mątowskie Pastwiska (Montauerweide, a village of the Tragheimerweide Gemeinde).  I was pleased to meet my friend Michał and he gave us a tour of the grounds.  It’s an absolutely fantastic facility including at least 6 Olędrzy structures (3 houses, 1 servant house, 1 barn, 1 granary) all salvaged from the surrounding countryside.  Really top-notch stuff.  It appeared that very little expense had been spared in building these reconstructions and Michał was proud to point out that everything had been rebuilt in the correct manner.  Even craftsmen from the south of Poland were brought in to build the thatch on the roofs correctly, as my ancestors would have done it so long ago.

Obernessau Mennonite cemetery

Mennonite Longhouse from Niedźwiedź 

Mennonites built their houses in the valley and delta (a common German word for delta in old Mennonite and German records in Werder.  In Polish, Werder is Żuławy.  And no, that’s not pronounced “Zoo-La-Vee” but rather “Zhoo-Wa-Vee”.  The Polish letter “Ł” or “ł”, looking similar to an English “L” or “l”, is actually pronounced as an English “W”.) in the Dutch style, that is, the living quarters, stable, and barn, were all under one roof.  In Dutch this is known as a longhouse (Langhof).  This is different to how the native Poles did it.  The Poles would have built three different buildings for house, stable, and barn.

Wattle fencing with crane-type water well

The typical Mennonite house in the early days would include the house, with the big and small rooms (grosser und kleine Stube) and kitchen (küche) on the ground floor.  A middle passageway, paved with bricks, separated the house from the stable which, with a lower ceiling than the house, had stalls for horses and cattle.  At the end opposite the house there was a barn used for storage of farm implements, etc.  The second story of the house was maybe bedroom living space and storage, with hay storage above the stable.  The upper areas of the barn might be open but above the house portion of the structure even a third story rose for additional storage.  An oven stood in the kitchen and the chimney then rose through the upper levels of the home, providing heat throughout.  In the upper reaches of the oven a meat-smoking compartment was commonly found (In fact, Mennonite smoked hams were so desirable that they were oftentimes included in the taxes the Mennonites were required to pay).  This entire structure was situated on top of a small, man-made berm.  In the event of flooding, the house in this way was kept above the level of the water.  The yard was commonly fenced off with wattle fencing.  Mennonites commonly incorporated willow trees into their water-management programs (willows require a lot of water) so there was an abundance of pliable willow branches with which to make wattle fences.

Inside of thatched roof

As time went on, the Mennonites became more and more prosperous along the Vistula and large arcades began to be added to these houses.  The room above the arcade was a nice, cool area on summer afternoons.  Mennonites typically stained the exterior of the houses; it was desirable for the living quarters to be wooden while stables and barns were brick.  Red color was not allowed (as this was for Polish nobility only) but Mennonites typically used blues and greens.  Indeed, a particular shade of blue was even commonly known as “Mennonite Blue”.  White was avoided as this drew flies.  Several examples of these huge arcaded homes from the late 17^th Century still stand here and there throughout the Vistula Valley and Delta.  All during the Mennonite period in Poland (roughly from 1550), many Mennonites were as rich as Polish nobility and they lived very different lives to the average work-a-day Polish peasants who were oftentimes tied to the land as serfs.

Drawing to show how Arcade was added to typical Mennonite Longhouse

While the Mennonites generally prospered, a considerable chunk of their wealth had to go towards 1) maintenance of dikes and other anti-flood related measures, and 2) bribes to local officials who didn’t like Mennonite presence in the area.  Let’s face it, Mennonites were second-class citizens in this area and were simply tolerated by the locals.  Oftentimes, local authorities would get it into their heads that the Mennonites needed to go away.  As a result, Mennonites were constantly fighting for their rights all along the delta and valley and many times they needed to “persuade” authorities of these rights.  We could use any number of different terms but what it oftentimes came down to, in the end, was that the Mennonites simply bribed authorities and were able to retain their rights.  If they wouldn’t have had to do this again and again, they probably would have been able to amass a lot more wealth.

Mennonite arcaded house at the Olenderski Park

It was at the Olenderski Park facility where I began to form an understanding of how much the current Polish regime, as well as the Polish people in general, appear to value the contributions made to their culture by the Mennonites (as well as other Olędrzy).  For instance, this new, large, very nice facility was all funded by the government.  And honestly, I didn’t understand how it was staying in business since there were very few patrons there.  The museum is located on Ulica Mennonitow (Mennonite Street) and just several blocks away to the east is another big, new facility called Olender Sports and Recreation Center, a sports and hotel complex, its name a nod to Mennonite culture.

And now we have to take another detour to define the term that’s popping up quite a lot – Olender (also expressed as Olędrzy or in English, Hollander).  Generally speaking, this was/is the Polish term for people who originated in the Lowlands (and the Lowlands always collectively seem to be lumped together as Holland even though that’s really a misleading way to term it).  The Olędrzy in Poland were people who came from the Lowlands and were settled upon farmlands by their landlords according to Dutch Law (as opposed to German Law or Chełmno [Kulm] Law).  The characteristics of Dutch Law included that the lease was executed involving a group of villagers instead of just an individual (all-for-one-and-one-for-all style), the villagers were usually farmers and a stipulation of the contract was that they were allowed to establish their own churches, schools, and village government.  Almost exclusively, Dutch Law villages (Olędrzy villages) were protestant.  In the very early days, Olędrzy villages were also probably filled with ethnic Dutch folks but that ethnic part of the definition fell away in time (said another way, in time, people in a Hollander village were not necessarily from Holland).  To make it more confusing, we have to say that Mennonites were considered Olędrzy but not all Olędrzy were Mennonite (for instance, there were also Lutheran Olędrzy).  To sum up the confusion then, not all Olędrzy were Dutch, and all Mennonites were also not Dutch, but all Mennonites (in Prussian Poland) were Olędrzy.[4]  Got it?

After the museum, we had a short stop at the surviving Obernessau Mennonite church (built 1890; Toruńska 184, 87-103 Mała Nieszawka, Poland) and it was actually a very touching moment as we all came inside the church (today the building hosts a Catholic congregation) and sat in the old pews.  Finally, after this church visit, we boarded the bus and headed towards our hotel in Toruń; the Gotyk Hotel on Piekary Street.  After installing ourselves in our hotel, I had maybe 30 minutes to walk around the beautiful old city, and then we met for dinner, walking to the restaurant at the Spichrz Hotel.

Obernessau Mennonite Church

More fantastic soup and good conversation was had with Michał who came to join us.  Afterwards I had just a little time to walk in the old city and then off to bed.  Tomorrow (Monday, 17 June) would be a huge day for me.

[1] Schapansky, Henry, The Mennonite Migrations (and The Old Colony, Russia), Country Graphics & Printing LTD, Rosenort, Manitoba, Canada, 2006.  Pp32, 33.

[2] Schapansky, p 69.

[3] Schapansky, pp 43-50.

[4] Marchlewski, Wojciech, “Different Neighbours”; Hauländer, en.wikipedia.org; 2017.