a few minutes ago: “Jews, turn your carts around. There’s no ghetto here, we’re going back to our homes.” Almost at once they are pulling their carts back.
Tall, broad-shouldered men from the same group are laughing loudly: “Hey, we are staying. There will be no Jews here,” and youngsters are shoving passers-by, whistling merrily.
I am going home. All the way back, I am haunted by the image of the old Jew, lying on that rug with his walking stick beside him.
He too, like many others, has to look for a flat once again—again, he has to move.
Days go by. After many such changes, the boundaries of the Jewish district are finally established.580
* * *
After several weeks of searching, I finally have a flat. It is much worse, but it is a flat, nonetheless.
I am faced with new difficulties. No money to move.
It seems pointless to apply for aid from the office where I work.
It is difficult to sell any of my things. There are no buyers. Speculators are thriving. The prices of clothing and household items are falling in proportion to the increase in food price.
There seems to be no way out of the situation.
I came into contact with members of the Board, an institution where I had worked before the war. They responded with concern, asking if I had managed to arrange a flat and if I had any financial problems. One of the men suggests that the rest of the sum of 300 zlotys remaining in the bank be given to me in the form of a salary supplement or compensation.
Difficulties arise of a legal and technical nature: the ledgers are closed, the balance is completed, assets along with the ledgers—in accordance with the decree—have been reported to the authorities. In addition, it is a specific population—a “purely Aryan” association should not and cannot pay large amounts of money to Jews, particularly in such circumstances.
