The Villa

A couple of months ago my friend in the States recommended that I read a book entitled, “The Zookeeper’s Wife.” It is the story of Jan Żabiński (zoo director) and his wife, Antonina, who hid and rescued more than 300 Jews at the Warsaw Zoo during WWII. They lived in the villa and although the Nazi soldiers had an ammunition base next door, they managed to house and protect the Jewish people right under their noses. Some hid in their home, some in the pheasant house or other animal cages and enclosures. Of course, this placed Jan and Antonina and their son, Rys, in grave danger. The Żabiński’s are thus listed amongst Israel’s “Righteous Among the Nations.” I have read extensively about the Holocaust, but this book, drawing primarily from Antonina’s diary, lent a unique perspective specific to the suffering experienced in Warsaw during the Nazi invasion.

I finished the book only a few days ago. The book implies that the villa is still standing, so I was eager to visit the zoo during our stay in Warsaw. Yesterday (Easter Monday) Dave and I awakened to blue skies and lots of sunshine, so it seemed the perfect day to visit the zoo. As soon as we entered the grounds, I headed straight for the large wooden sign displaying the “plan” of the zoo. Yes, we wanted to see the lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!), but my main goal was to visit the villa – the very place where Jan and Antonina lived and so bravely provided a safe haven for the Jewish people. Well, you can imagine my surprise when no villa appeared on the map.

We decided to follow the suggested route and before long we were "oo"-ing and "ahh"-ing at the condors and anacondas. We were glad to have finally found Nemo, but there was no villa in sight. I approached a young woman selling ice cream next to the aquarium. When I asked her about the villa, she said she had never heard of such a place. I was confused.

On we went … jaguars, giraffes, elephants … but where was the villa? Inside one of the animal houses was a nice gift shop. “Finally,” I thought, “a zoo worker who can direct us to the villa.” I went to the counter and asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, but can you please tell me where the villa is?” She answered, “Nie ma” (it’s not here). I went on to explain that I had just read a book about the zoo which described a villa where the Żabiński’s lived. She repeated, “Nie ma.” When I told her that I had read on internet that the villa was still standing, she became a bit impatient with me and repeated emphatically, “Nie ma.” So, I left the shop … disappointed.

As it was a lovely day, I resolved to make the most of it, villa or no villa. We enjoyed strolling through the park, laughing at the antics of the monkeys, watching the sea lions do lunch, and feeding the little goats. But my disappointment lingered, creating a cloud in my spirit on this otherwise cloudless day. Just as we were approaching the exit and were about to leave, I noticed a white building off to the left behind some trees. It was an unassuming place off the main path, and unlike all the other buildings, it obviously was not a home for animals. It looked like it may have been a dwelling at one time – two stories, windows across the front, a terrace on top. No other guests at the zoo would notice it unless, like me, they were searching for a villa. On a whim, I took a picture of the building and then we left to catch our tram.

An hour or so later, we arrived back in our room. I immediately got online and googled, “Villa Warsaw Zoo.” Within seconds, a picture appeared on the screen – it was the white building that I had taken a picture of just before leaving the zoo! I was shocked! WHAT? It WAS the villa! Yet, as far as we know, there were no signs, no indication that this was the place where Jan and Antonina had lived, administered the zoo, and rescued hundreds of Jews during the War. And not one person I had spoken to at the zoo knew anything about it! Nikt nie wie nic! (No one does not know nothing!)

Later in the evening I recounted these events with some friends who have lived in Warsaw all their lives. One woman remembered taking care of Jan Żabiński’s dog years ago and now she is a frequent visitor at the zoo. Yet neither she nor anyone else knew anything about the villa or what the Żabiński’s had done during the War.

I am still trying to process all of this. Of course, there are memorials throughout Poland that document the events of WWII and their significance for both Poles and Jews. Still, too often the realities of the past are neglected. Little evidence remains to remind this nation that 3.4 million Jewish people once walked these same streets and called Poland “home.” I have sensed a denial, sometimes an apathy, often an ignorance regarding the Jewish presence in Poland’s past. Unfortunately, it’s more convenient to ignore what once was and to go on with life as it now is.

Fortunately, though, there ARE those who want to preserve the past. Books have been written, films produced, documentaries created. I only hope one day a large sign will stand before the villa in the Warsaw Zoo, telling the story of Jan and Antonina Żabiński and their valiant role in saving many lives. It is good to remember those who have suffered and to give honor to those to whom it is due.