
We came to Northern Greece and southern Bulgaria (aka Ancient Macedonia) in part to explore the Sephardic Jewish history of the eastern Balkans. A bit of background: After the Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492 many moved to Central and Southeastern Europe in the Ottoman empire where they maintained strong ties to their Spanish and Ladino backgrounds, ending with the horror of the Nazis followed by the Communists.
But enough: Off we go!
Thessaloniki. We arrive in Greece’s second largest city in the midst of a wild rainstorm and plunging temperatures. (It’s freezing in May!) Fortunately the skies clear to reveal a perfect rainbow – we take this as a sign for the religiosity into which we are about to plunge.

Thessaloniki sits on a wide bay in the north Aegean that is a major shipping port as well as home to the country’s largest university. On a clear day you can see snowcapped Mt. Olympus – a national park – across the bay. We do a long introductory walk through the seafront promenade, visiting ancient churches with the golden glow of Byzantine mosaics, the recently discovered Roman ruins while building the brand new subway and a few remaining Ottoman buildings – former Hamams, bazaars, mosques repurposed but still prominent with their distinctive domed and red tiled roofs. Mention of Turks and Ottomans is still met with awkward silence: the Ottomans did not withdraw from northern Greece until 1912, and the forced and brutal population exchange between Greece and Turkey of 1923 (think Armenian genocide) is still family lore among many of the descendants of the nearly one million Greeks who survived the exodus from Turkey. Mindful of the long reach of this bitter history, we look for the joyful details of being someplace new. Scenes from Thessaloniki below:

From Top L to R: Thessaloniki waterfront promenade: Two nuns eating ice cream: Statue commemorating hometown hero Alexander the Great and his famous horse, Bucephalus: The gold mosaic ceiling of Hagia Sophia built in the 7th century based on the original in Constantinople: Excavations left in situ in the subway (took 30 years to build because of the extensive archeological finds): Pink oleander growing everywhere.
The Tomb of Philip of Macedon

One of the most exciting archeological finds of the recent past is the discovery of the tomb of Philip of Macedon, (died 336 BCE, father of Alexander the Great) in the city of Vergina, about an hour’s drive to the south and west. The tomb was discovered intact and un-plundered in 1977 and a museum built on site underground highlights the wealth and beauty of the funerary artifacts found within. Solid gold caskets, delicate laurel crowns of gold leaves and acorns, a complete dinner set made of silver that looks like it was created yesterday, a gold quiver and arrowheads, a massive ceremonial shield, a suit of armor, delicate ivory and gold carvings. (The ivory trio below is no bigger than the palm of my hand). The museum is dark and blessedly quiet; we are among only a few tourists and I hear no English. Remarkable!

Veria
En route to the ancient capital of Vergina, we visit the “restored” Jewish quarter of the town of Veria, (where the Apostle Paul preached to the local Jewish community) dating from the 2nd century BCE. As elsewhere in the region, Jews were a powerful economic force prior to WWII. Today there are virtually none left. As with many (most?) places in Europe, the Jews are gone but their remaining synagogue has been beautifully restored with the Sephardi blue sky ceiling and painted domes. Who visits? Not clear. The synagogue is open only by appointment.

Salonica

The Jewish presence in Thessaloniki was unique in Europe: In the 1800s and early 1900s Salonica (the name under the Ottomans) was a majority Jewish city where the shipyards and the port were closed on Saturday. The Great Fire of 1917 destroyed the heart of the old town, and it was rebuilt on a modern plan by a French architect to look eerily like Casablanca. Unlike Most European cities, there were no Jewish ghettoes in Thessaloniki, as the population was spread throughout the city; and because both Jews and Christians were second class citizens under the Ottomans, there was very little religious persecution by Christians against Jews. This came into play sharply as Salonica’s Jews confronted the toxicity of Hitler’s anti-semitism; they apparently had no deep-in-their-DNA experience with that level of hatred – unlike their brethren in Poland, Ukraine and the Russian Empire.

Here’s what we were told by our Jewish guides – Hella and Elias Matalon, both residents of the city whose families lived there for generations, and whose parents – now in their mid-90’s – remember the events of 1942-3. Prior to WWII there were several dozen active synagogues in the city – many of whose names heralded the origins of their founders – Sephardi Jews from France, Italy, Venice, Provence. In the 1930s the community decided it needed a Chief Rabbi to represent their interests to the Greek government and society at large – a relatively new need after years of living under the Ottomans. They hired a controversial German Rabbi, Tsvi Koretz, who spoke neither Greek nor Ladino. It is unclear whether he was a passive collaborator or a hopeless dupe but he followed all Nazi orders to encourage the Jewish population to report to deportation sites and board trains for “relocation away from the war.” There were relatively few Germans posted to Northern Greece, and it appears that with some encouragement, many more Jews could have fled to join partisans in the mountains, gone into hiding or escape to Italian controlled southern Greece. Alas, they did not. Even the Jewish cemetery, dating from 300 BCE, containing 300,000 graves was destroyed and became the grounds of what is today Aristotle University.

A lengthy conflict among survivors and the remaining Jewish community of about 1500 was finally resolved in 2014 by dedicating a small memorial to commemorate the site of the former cemetery. Sadly, many of the thousands of medieval tombstones have been used in building sites throughout the area. I found this simple memorial (below) profoundly moving.

More scenes from Thessaloniki below:

From top L to R:
1) Memorial on the campus of Aristotle University to commemorate the destruction of 300,00 Jewish graves dating from 200 BCE by the Nazis and (mostly) Greek collaborators in 1942:
2) The Arch of Galerius (Roman 200 AD),
3) Icons in a Greek church that I happened to walk into;
4) A helmet from Ancient Thrace with gold noseplate in the Musuem of Archeology (where we were among no more than 20 tourists in the entire museum);
5) The apse of the Rotunda built circa 100 BCE as a pagan temple, then early Christian church, Byzantine church, Ottoman mosque (frescoes destroyed, mosaics covered), Greek church post 1912, and finally restored as historic building in the late 20th century;
6) Old Turkish hamam known as the “Jehudi” Hamam located in the central Jewish business district of old Salonica;
7) The Rotunda exterior;
8) The Donmeh Mosque – former center of the descendants of the followers of Shabbatai Tsvi – the false messiah who converted to Islam in 1666. His devoted followers followed him in conversion and their approximately 15,000 descendants – known as Donmeh – lived in Thessaloniki until the forced Turkish/Greek population exchanges in 1922-23. This elaborate mosque with many Jewish symbols and elements was built as late as 1903.
9) Late sunset from the lovely seaside promenade that runs along the entire waterfront.

Good-bye to the lovely ON Residence hotel and its prime waterfront location
Next up: Heading into Bulgaria!