The Historic Swap.

I doubt that the Wall Street Journal knew, when they printed this edition, that he would be free a little more than four months later:

It was a monumental prisoner swap, the largest since The Cold War ended some reports noted, involving multiple countries.  As I read about it, saw the happy and relieved faces of those held in Russian - in the case of Paul Whelan, for over five years - I remembered my trip to Russia.  It's a place I will never go again, so I am glad I went when I did, during a sliver of somewhat safe time.

I didn't go alone, of course.  A group from my synagogue was traveling at the behest of the Union for Reform Judaism to deliver a Torah and some other items to a resurfacing congregation in Rostov na Donu.  Other than our rabbi, everybody on the trip (we were a very small group) had a tie to Russia: one or more ancestors who had left the country.  I was by decades the youngest, and in my case it was my great-great-grandparents on my mother's mother's side.  Of that family, my great-grandmother was the first person born in the United States, a bonus baby after her parents reunited in Texas.

When I told my family of my plan to be in this group, it did not go well.  They were afraid for my safety.  My mother said that my ancestors didn't go through trauma and privation to leave the country only to have me return decades later.  These were not pleasant discussions.  I prevailed in the end, but amid many fears and promises.  This was in 1999, well before cellphones, and international communication would be iffy at best, especially given Russia.

I helped to arrange for Torah crowns and a Torah cover.  Others provided a yad, and prayer books.  We carried our precious cargo in hand luggage.

After a few days in Moscow, we traveled to Rostov and met the young people and older ones who were reconstituting Jewish life in that city.  Some of it was supporting elders who had no family and who could not travel; some of it was preparing people who wanted to make aliyah to Israel, or possibly leave for the United States, although that was not to be discussed.  I wondered how long the community would survive, or if it would die out as the elders died and the younger left the country.

When I heard of the prisoner swap yesterday, I remembered the trip, and how we were watched and followed and could go out only with a "guide".  I did make one small foray on my own to walk the neighborhood and investigate a department store, buying chocolates to take to my colleagues and family back in Texas.  I thought about everything that has happened in the country, and the world, since my visit.  I've followed the stories of Whelan, Gershkovich, Griner, and other prisoners in Russia, as well as those of Alexei Navalny and other dissidents.  I thought of the stories told, quietly, when I visited, and the other stories I heard from the older persons who lived around my synagogue in Connecticut.  I remember as a child hearing about dancers, musicians, athletes, and other defecting.

It's sad that people become bargaining chips between superpowers.  It's sad that in well over a century, things have not changed in Russia.  If anything, it is probably worse.

I am glad I went to Russia when I did, so that I can say I saw at least part of the country of my family's history.  Several of the countries from where my forbears came no longer exist, or were absorbed and changed over time, so that a location may have been in a different country then than it is today.  I know that I could not return to Russia today, nor do I wish to.  The invasion of Ukraine has made it clear how the country views others, and how they are likely to treat people who do not toe their line.  I could never toe that line, and neither did my ancestors who walked over borders and fled in the 1880's.

In some ways, I am sad that it is so, because I would rather a world where we could travel freely and widely, and meet people, share experiences and meals, and revel in our similarities while wondering at our differences.  I'm glad that I saw Russia when I could, and I am glad that I made it home safely at the scheduled end of my trip.

And I am glad for the people who made it home after yesterday's exchange.  May they live in peace.