Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler

 Alexei was a young man when my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came to live with him. She was fairly young herself. She was no longer a kitten although not quite a full grown cat. 

In human terms, you could say that she was a teenager. That is, she was around six months old or so at the time. This was shortly before her first pregnancy. So, in practical terms, Mruczek and Alexei were in similar stages of growth and maturity when they came to live together. 

Now, my human translator Yankl suggested that some readers might wonder why Alexei gave my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother such a masculine name. He could have, after all, called her something feminine such as Mruczka or possibly Kizia i Mruczek as these are common Polish names for female cats. 

Well, truth be told, for one, she was a fairly tough looking and muscular feline. Without a close examination, a casual human observer might readily have mistaken her for a Tom rather than a Queen. 

Of course, Alexei was well aware of mammalian gendering. He would have had no problem differentiating between a stallion and a mare, a bull and a cow, or a boar and a sow. Cats, on the other hand, require far closer examination and Alexei and my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother had not developed such a relationship that allowed for such close interaction and examination when he began calling her Mruczek. 

My Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother did, however, have an impressive voice, meowing at the cottage threshold. Her voice captured Alexei’s attention and eventually his affection. 

The truth is that what people call us is of hardly any importance. As cats are fond of saying, we don't care what you call us…as long as it's not late for supper. 

The question that I find more intriguing, which, for some reason hadn't crossed Yankl's mind, no offense meant my translator but maybe he isn't all that inquisitive, is this; why did a Wallachian peasant whose Mother Tongue was Romanian give a cat a Polish name? That's always been a mystery for me. 

Of course, as I mentioned before, the mentshn, the Russians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians, Tatars, Romanians, and even the Yidden, lived in close proximity with one another. A significant amount of exchange and interaction took place even without these various people having a common shprakh. Alexei, as you will soon see, circulated among these mentshn and was, even as a youth, somewhat of a polyglot.

Anyway, my story continues…

Alexei, though young, was both intelligent and clever for a peasant lad. He had been largely on his own from before he had even turned ten. 

Alexei would run off for days or even weeks at a time. There was always plenty of work to do out in the world and he was good at finding himself a position. There were always stables that needed mucking out. For a while he was an assistant for a chronically drunk ferryman. He was a blacksmith's helper for a time. He was the chief pot scrubber and potato peeler at a lumbering encampment. 

Whenever Alexei returned home, no one seemed particularly concerned that he had been gone. He always came back with some newly acquired skills and a few coins in his pocket. After a while, he would head out on a new adventure. 

Alexei certainly wasn't much older than twelve when he joined up with a troupe of entertainers traversing the Russian Empire. He traveled far and wide, caring for the horses as well as training dancing bears. 

Alexei was on the road for several years and by the time he returned to the region of his birth he was nearly an adult. On this occasion, however, he soon learned that his circumstances had been greatly altered. 

A few months earlier Alexei’s mother had become quite ill and had passed away. Alexei's father, Georgi, arranged for her burial and mourned her to the best of his ability, before returning to his routine of working alone in the forest as he had become accustomed to. Georgi was cutting trees alone in the woods when his axe slipped and he injured himself. Georgi dragged his broken body back to the trail where he bled out.

So Alexei learned of the passing of his parents from the villagers upon his return to the region of his birth. The peasants urged him to speak with the village priest who had overseen Georgi's last rites and Alexei's inheritance while he had been gone. 

Alexei went to the church where he found Father Kiril. It was early in the day so the priest was still relatively sober and his vision was still fairly clear. After blinking a few times, he recognized Alexei and managed to remember who he was. Alexei approached Father Kiril, removed his cap, and kissed the priest’s hand. 

Father Kiril invited young Alexei into his office. Father Kiril sat in a plush chair behind a large desk. Alexei sat on a stool on the opposite side of the desk. Father Kiril filled two glasses with vodka, one glass for himself and one for Alexei. Father Kiril placed a large accounting book on the desk and began to speak of the material matters concerning Georgi's estate. 

The priest patiently explained to the boy what resources his father had, how the priest had managed these resources while Alexei was absent, and what was presently due to be transferred to Alexei as his inheritance. It all was a blur for Alexei, and not only because of the vodka. Much of the information was difficult for Alexei to follow because he was illiterate and only had a rudimentary understanding of the simplest of math. 

Alexei came into possession of his family's cottage, a pair of horses, a carriage, several goats, a small flock of chickens, a few ducks, and a small bag of coins. The priest explained to Alexei that it was customary for someone in his position to tithe to the Holy Church. As Alexei was uncertain about the math involved, Father Kiril gracefully offered to help him figure a proper percentage of the coins that would remain with the priest. Then, Father Kiril offered the young man his blessings and walked him to the door. 

So it was that Alexei was committed to the maintenance of a home and the care of the fowl and livestock that came with it. This was a big change for a youth who had traveled the Russian Empire with a circus and dancing bears. 

Alexei wasn't sure what to make of all this domesticity but it certainly, for the moment seemed to be his fate. He fiddled about in and around the family cottage, contemplating his situation. When my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came meowing at the door of Alexei’s cottage, she certainly could see that the young man needed her assistance. She also smelled chicken roasting, which is always an incentive for a cat to develop a relationship with those of the humankind. 

The following day, while Alexei was busying himself outside of the cottage, a foreign looking, oddly dressed man with a long and bushy beard, carrying a peddler’s sack - in short, a Yid - arrived tsufus, on foot. Alexei offered the traveler a cup of water, which the Yid accepted. The traveler held the cup in his hands and muttered a bracha in what surely sounded cryptic to Alexei, a prayer to the Most High.

This Yid, of course, was the Baal Shem Tov. After he quenched his thirst, he placed a hand on Alexei’s shoulder and proceeded to utter a blessing for the youth. Alexei shuddered. He remembered seeing this odd Yid before. Alexei remembered seeing this traveler talking to his boss while he was shoveling manure. That night, his boss gave him a new blanket and a loaf of bread. Alexei remembered seeing the traveler on the ferry and that he pressed a gold coin into Alexei’s palm as he exited the boat. He remembered seeing him at one of the circus sets in a small, out-of-the-way village where the bear that Alexei was handling performed with particular grace. When the Baal Shem Tov removed his hand from Alexei’s shoulder, the lad fainted. 

When Alexei came to, he was sitting on a chair inside the cottage. The Baal Shem Tov was attending to the lad. A damp cloth was being applied to his forehead. Mruczek was sitting on the floor beside Alexei, watching over him with concern. 

When the Baal Shem Tov felt assured that Alexei would be alright, he spoke to the young man. “I blessed your father Georgi for the service that he provided when he was just a boy. He was prosperous because of the blessing. I have kept an eye on you, over the years, to assure that you were safe and prosperous yourself. Now that you are becoming a man, it is time that you and I enter into a contract.”

The Baal Shem Tov gave Alexei a small pouch of coins of various denominations. He told Alexei that the money should be considered a deposit. 

“This,” continued the BeShT, “is what I expect of you. You will keep your horses healthy and your wagon will be well maintained. You will need to be ready at a moment's notice to travel, any time I come here or send for you, day or night. Wherever I tell you to go and whatever I ask you to do, you will do without questioning. For this, you will be compensated well, in this world and also in the World to Come.”

“In the meantime, young man, until I need you, you must dedicate your time to learning how to read and write. I will be sending you a tutor. He will be here in a couple of days. If you were literate you wouldn't have let that drunk priest steal half of your inheritance!”

“I will be going now,” concluded the Baal Shem Tov, and he headed to the door. Then, he paused and began reaching about among the many pockets of his bulky clothes until he retrieved what he was looking for. He bent over and gave Mruczek a schtickle of herring. Again, the BeShT spoke to Alexei. “And, take good care of this ketsl and she will take care of you.”

With that, the Baal Shem Tov was on his way. Alexei was under contract to be at the BeShT's beck and call. Mruczek, my Great Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother was assured a secure forever home. 

And here I must break off the telling of this tale, for now. I am due for a very long cat nap. Tomorrow is another day. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei

 

I know that these stories I am about to tell you may sound like fantasies but these are indeed true histories. I know this because I listened attentively to my mother even when I was very young. My ears were always perked while I nursed. My mother would speak to her kittens, feeding our minds while she was filling our bellies. 

You see, I am a direct matrilineal descendent of Mruczek. Mruczek was the cat that lived with Alexei, the Baal Shem Tov’s driver. Because of this, Mruczek traveled extensively with the BeShT. Of course, that was many cat generations ago but cats have ancestral memories longer than tails. 

It is true that cats often know little of their paternal lineage because there is always some uncertainty about our fathers. In fact, sometimes in any litter, the kittens may have several different fathers. When a cat is ready to be a mother, the inner forces of nature and the mysteries of the night are what determines short-term liaisons, with little or no concern for discretion. Beyond genetics, our fathers generally have little, if any influence on our upbringing. We all know, however, a great deal about our maternal lineage.

I am able to relay this particular tale to humankind because my human friend Yankl is gifted with the capacity of understanding cats. This is a rare and sensitive nature among humankind. Kol Hakavod! Much respect. 

As well as being a sensitive being, Yankl is also literate and skilled at writing. As such, this is, to the best of my knowledge, the first time that a cat's perspective has ever been relayed in print. I cannot thank Yankl enough for his efforts. I have insisted that he be given proper credit right in the beginning, even though he humbly protested that he is undeserving of such praise.

Mentshn and cats have lived in close proximity for a very long time. Sometimes they even live together. There is a certain synchronicity to the relationship. Each, in some ways, serves the interests of the other. There is an unspoken and fluctuating social contract between the feline and the humankind, built on something beyond understanding for each of the species. On the whole, very few of either species can be said to really understand the other, but sometimes we come closer to mutual understanding than one might expect. 

Likewise, amongst the mentshn, the Russians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians, Tatars, Romanians, and even the Yidden often live side by side. They meet in markets and taverns. They brush up against each other, generally without fully understanding one another, similar to the way cats and mentshn interact. When a cat has an unexpected interaction with a human, one never knows if one will be greeted with a petting and a treat or with a swift kick and maybe something worse. A cat's life in this world seems to be quite similar to that of the Yidden amongst the nations. 

So, to learn how my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came to live with the Wallachian peasant Alexei, I suppose we first need to examine how a young peasant came to own a house as well as a wagon and horses. For this, we need to rely on what she overheard from mentshn which is not as reliable as information directly from a cat. Mentshn, I am sorry to say, have a tendency to embellish. 

And, it seems that Alexei’s good fortunes stem from a somewhat unintentional good deed by his father Georgi when Georgi was quite young and a shepherd boy.

In those days, it was not uncommon for young peasant boys to be given a significant amount of responsibilities over the herds. The herds would wander great distances, verst after verst, fattening themselves for the eventual slaughter that is their fate. The boys would supervise the herds, days and nights for weeks on end. No one supervised the boys. The children were unschooled and largely lacking in any moral upbringing as well, motivated more by self interest rather than social standards. 

At that time the Lamedvovniks, the secret society of Righteous Men, was very active in smuggling Holy Books throughout the Russian Empire. This enterprise would, on occasion, call for a Lamedvovnik to hide books in a secret rendezvous spot, a remote location away from centers of human habitation, to be retrieved later by another member of the association. 

So it was that Yisrael Ben Eliezer was on such a secret mission. This was before he had revealed himself to be the Baal Shem Tov. He was just one of the 36 Lamedvovniks disguised as a common wanderer among the Yidden of the Russian Empire. Yisrael Ben Eliezer placed a bundle of books carefully hidden in the predesignated location. 

Georgi, who was on his own, unsupervised, with nothing but time on his hands, happened to see Yisrael Ben Eliezer at work, a Yid, oddly dressed as far as an unworldly Wallachian peasant boy was concerned. Georgi reasonably assumed that a great treasure was being hidden, perhaps a vast stolen wealth of money, gold, and jewelry. After Yisrael left the bundle unattended, Georgi circled around to acquire it for himself. 

Young Georgi untied the bundle and stared without comprehension at the strangeness of the hidden treasure. He knew almost nothing of books, in general. The letters in these particular books he had certainly never seen, as they were written in Lashon HaKodesh and not Cyrillic. He felt almost as if he had been tricked, unearthing a treasure with no particular value. And then, Georgi felt a large hand on his shoulder. He turned in trepidation to see the bearded face of Yisrael Ben Eliezer looking down at him. Georgi considered running but he was being firmly held in the grip of this mysterious Yid. He surely, at this point, expected a beating because the life of a peasant child was harsh like that. 

But, looking into the kindly eyes of the Baal Shem Tov, Georgi perceived that a beating might not be his fate. The strange bearded man pulled Georgi into his arms in a bear hug and whispered into his ear, speaking fluently in Romanian, Georgi's Mother Tongue. 

“You have indeed found a treasure, but not one that you can immediately spend. This bundle has no monetary value and yet it is of great value for the entire world, greater than diamonds or gold.”

“Now, listen carefully, for this you must do. It is your task to guard this bundle of Holy Books. In two or three days another man, with a beard like mine and dressed like I am will arrive. You will assure that he gets the bundle and that these books are protected and secure until he does so.”

When Reb Yisrael finished saying this, he placed his hands on the boy's head and muttered words in the Loshen HaKodesh before speaking again to the boy. 

“I am going to give you a coin now. When my comrade arrives, he will also give you one. Understand that if you fulfill my instructions, you will be blessed and your descendents will also be blessed, in your honor for this service.”

Yisrael Ben Eliezer pressed a coin into the palm of the shepherd boy. The coin was nearly the equivalent of what he would earn as a shepherd for the entire season. Georgi's life had been unquestionably altered by a chance encounter with the Baal Shem Tov. 

Georgi went on to live the life of a fairly typical peasant, we can suppose. He worked hard, on and off. He drank when drink was available. He brawled on occasion in the taverns and the alleyways, as peasants might be inclined. And, of course, he periodically lusted after peasant girls. So, at a young age he married one of these and she bore him a son whom they christened Alexei. 

We do not know what became of Georgi or his bride. The lives of peasants were generally short, difficult, and without much significance. However, he did have more than his share of luck at times and managed to acquire a small house as well as a wagon and a couple of decent horses. And these came, in due time, to be the inheritance of Alexei. 

And, this is where Alexei was living when my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek found the smell of food wafting from an open doorway of a modest dwelling in a backwards corner of the Russian Empire. And, here she chose to linger and meow at the threshold until Alexei invited her in. And here she decided that this was where she would stay.

Now, you need to understand that cats, on the whole, like to sleep around eighteen hours a day. Telling all of this to Yankl has taken a great deal out of me. It is time for me to enjoy a sardine or two and then settle into a cat nap. 

Perhaps tomorrow, I will tell you about how Alexei became the Baal Shem Tov’s driver and some of their adventures. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

The Baal Shem Tov and the Cat

 

The world rests on the merit of 36 Righteous Men in each generation, from nearly the beginning of time and even now. The 36 are represented by the Hebrew letters Lamed (ל) and Vov (ו) and are referred to as the Lamedvovniks.

The Lamedvovniks live mostly hidden among us. They generally appear to be simple people, laborers toiling for their daily bread. When necessitated, they may be smugglers of holy books or of vast fortunes of precious stones or gold coins. Sometimes they were miracle workers. At times they would gather in secret places, clearings in deep forests or on mountain tops, forming minyans with prayer that moved mighty forces on Earth and even the Heavens. The world depends on the Lamedvovniks. 

Yisrael Ben Eliezer showed promise even as a child. He learned quickly. He brought joy to those he met along the way. As a young man, he taught small children. However, he didn't reveal the fullness of his powers until his 36th (לו - lamed vov) year. It was then he began to publicly perform miracles. This is when he became known as the Baal Shem Tov, the Master of the Good Name, or the BeShT (בעש״ט).

The Lamedvovniks were dependent on the Baal Shem Tov, even as the world depended upon them. The BeShT taught and led those that secretly taught and guided the world. 

This new role that Yisrael took on as the guiding light and touchstone of the Lamedvovniks necessitated extensive traveling at a moment's notice over verst after verst of unmeasurable distances in all sorts of weather and often through days and nights beyond counting. The Baal Shem Tov needed a loyal driver. 

The Baal Shem Tov placed himself into the hands of a Wallachian peasant, a gentile by the name of Alexei who served as his wagon driver, on whom he was at times totally dependent. And, although Alexei would never admit it, he was very much dependent on a feline companion. 

This particular cat was usually called by the Polish names Mruczek (The One Who Purrs) or Puszko (Fluffy) by Alexei, even though Alexei’s Mother Tongue was Romanian. The Baal Shem Tov always called the feline Ketsl although the cat was certainly well past being a kitten. The cat, of course, answered to any name, especially if the person was offering a schtickle of herring. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Diaspora in the Stars; The Planet Birobidzhan Story

This is the preface for

 The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan 

 

Tayere khaveyrim, dear friends,

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is a work of fiction. The setting for most of this book is very far away and in the distant future. Although this book is largely about Jews on other planets, one need not be a Yid (a Jew) or a luftmentsh (a spaceman) to read this story any more than one, for instance, would need to be a Hobbit or an Elf to read a book such as Lord of the Rings. 

This book is a future history. To gaze into the future, we will also need to gaze into the past.

Planet Birobidzhan was settled by exiles separated from the Home Planet for a long time. The exiles developed their own unique culture and speak primarily Yiddish. Some awareness of Yiddishkeit is certainly helpful to understand this tale. To make this story more accessible, I have included a glossary. 

This is a story of displacement, exile, and entrapment by fate. This is also the saga of the few that strive to break free from those entanglements. This story is told from various vantage points, with different voices. The tale spans hundreds of years.

Where to begin? Long before the Yidden came to the gallus in the stars, we lived on Planet Earth where we were also often displaced. But, that is not really the beginning, either. 

The very beginning is described in Bereshis, what others call Genesis. "When God began to create heaven and earth - the earth being unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep and a wind from God sweeping over the water - God said 'Let there be light' and there was light." 

All humanity, we are told, derived from one mother and a single spark. We even all had a single shprakh. What that language was, we do not know. 

Humanity dispersed globally. Each region developed a unique Mamaloshen, I suppose. Farsheteyt? I can't say that I really understand, but the shprakh of each of us became babbling in each other's ears. 

Our Father Abraham originated in Ur Kasdim. Abraham developed a personal relationship with God. Because of this, our bashert became distinct from the rest of the mentshen of Planet Earth. The relationship with the Creator is our inheritance, but that inheritance is not evenly distributed amongst the Children of Abraham. 

What we know of Abraham's immediate family, and those that follow, we learn from the Tanakh, the assemblage of texts that others call the Old Testament. 

Father Abraham's wife was barren. Mother Sarah, in her old age, offered her servant as a surrogate to bear children. The servant and Abraham's first son are left to fend for themselves in the wilderness because Sarah's reasoning was displaced with jealousy. 

I am quite uncertain about how it all ends. Our prophets offer veiled suggestions, but no conclusions. We have no scriptures describing an Apocalyptic End Times as those of other peoples. 

The middle is quite garbled. Most of our tale here is likely closer to the end than the beginning. Es tut mir layd for a lack of greater clarity. 

Our story seems to backtrack and twist in on itself, full of doubt and uncertainty. That rambling is, perhaps, a continuation on the trajectory that reaches back to the very earliest days of the Jewish People. Ikh vis nisht. 

I suffer from a condition of nostalgia, a dissatisfaction with the present. I long for something better. This life of mine is an anachronism. Maybe that explains it. Ikh vis nisht.

A disjointed sense of time and place is not an exclusively Jewish condition. It may be a widespread human phenomenon. A condition of nostalgia and displacement does seem particularly pervasive amongst the Yidden. 

Questions of lineage fill our Tanakh with instances of displaced lines of inheritance, periods of exile, and separation trauma. 

Brothers fought within wombs for dominance. Birthrights were traded for bowls of soup. Children were conceived through subterfuge and seduction. Moshe was raised by Pharaoh's daughter. Hadassah married the King of Persia. 

These sorts of plot twists repeat throughout our Tanakh, reappearing amongst the Nations in barely camouflaged folk tales such as Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, and Cinderella. The Roma fortune tellers use Tarot Cards to retool the Tanakh for those lacking a tradition of literacy. 

Family roots are taken very seriously by Yidden. Perhaps our historical obsession with assurances of ethnicity derives from the obvious lack of lineage purity. We are, after all, of many hues and physical types, mixed and blended. 

We mirror this concern with our dietary laws, obsessing on separations. We refrain, for instance, from mixing milk and meat. Nonetheless, the meals that we perceive as Jewish borrow heavily from our Russian, Polish, and Ukrainian neighbors, representing a confluence of cultures. 

We tend to blend our foods. Our kugel, gefilte fish, kneidelach, chopped liver, tzimmes, and cholent all reflect our tendency to bring some order out of chaos, imitating the act of Creation. Our foods are as mixed up as our bloodlines. 

Wherever we migrated, we carried our burdens and contradictions with us. We carried Eretz Yisrael with us into exile. We carry the habits, values, and customs absorbed in exile from one Diaspora to another. 

This was our fate on Planet Earth and continues to be so as we transit across galaxies. 

I hope that readers find this introduction and explanation of sorts to be of some use.

A hartsikn dank, a heartfelt thanks, for your indulgence. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is now available wherever books are sold! 

The novel can also be bought, at a discount, through this direct purchase link:

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN

Zvi Baranoff has written both fiction and non fiction for decades and has had pieces published in several independent publications. The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is his first published novel. He lives in rural southern Oregon, where he anticipates remaining for the foreseeable future. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan

 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is a work of speculative fiction, a future history of social and science fiction. This is a story of displacement, exile, and entrapment by fate. This is also the saga of the few that strive to break free from those entanglements.

Kabbalists have spoken of traveling great distances in a troika or on foot or in a meditative state through divine intervention. The Baal Shem Tov, for instance, was famous for such feats. So, the rabbis found the idea of folding space/time to be quite plausible. After all, isn't that exactly what the great sages of blessed memory had done? 

Wormholes were theorized for a very long time. The first time one was discovered was in the middle of the 21st Century. The scientists were blown away. The rabbis shrugged. 

The wormhole opened the option to settle new worlds. When the tenuous connection to the Home Planet was severed, those who had emigrated to Planet Birobidzhan were then on their own. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is now available for purchase worldwide, wherever books are sold! 

The retail price of this hardcover book is $24.95 but if you use this direct purchase link you can buy the book for ONLY $18. 

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN

Vilna on Planet Shney, the Early Days

 

by Zvi Baranoff 

Nes promoted the project of building the Holy Shtot of Vilna as a great spiritual mission. He talked about it to anyone that would listen. The idea, at first, garnered precious little enthusiasm on Planet Shney. 

Most of the mentshen of Planet Shney considered the idea of building a shtot centered on a Grand Yeshiva in an uninhabited sector to be either foolhardy or an outright scam. Some suspected that Nes had slipped a gear. They began referring to him as Der Vilner Goen, the Genius of Vilna, in a most derogatory sarcastic manner, mostly behind his back. 

Planet Shney, after all, had no networks of rabbinic dynasties or structures of bureaucracies that would willingly foster and possibly benefit from institutions such as a yeshiva. The few rabbis, moyels, and sochets of Planet Shney barely had enough work for themselves. They had no incentive to encourage the training of more competition for their limited trade. 

For anyone paying attention, there was precious little physical evidence pointing to the emergence of a Grand Yeshiva. Reaching the valley that was destined to be Vilna was no easy matter at the time. It required a long shlep on a primitive route that could barely be considered a road. Hardly anyone other than a very few construction workers had even been to the future site of the Grand Yeshiva and Holy Shtot to be witnesses of the goings-on. Those few could verify that the Mikvah was completed, but unattended and that the hotel and casino stood empty and unused, surrounded otherwise by a vast uninhabited landscape. 

Nes continued to solicit donations where he could. Some people donated, it seems, as a hedging of bets, so to speak. After all, a modest donation to a holy endeavor might secure some favors in the World to Come, should anything come of it. Nes spent the money raised as he will, whether it evidently promoted the project or not. 

In Moskve, Nes spent lavishly on cultural projects, hoping that would win back the favor of his wife. Moskve was certainly endowed by such spending although his public generosity had little effect on improving his relationship with his wife. The theater fulfilled Shprintza Freyda and she was no longer interested in whatever abstractions that her husband was selling. 

News of the theoretical inception of the project had not even reached Planet Birobidzhan. The Grand Yeshiva project was contingent on a massive influx of rabbinic authorities and students immigrating from that distant world. No one on Planet Shney could possibly know the response from that quarter of the universe until the dreidl had completed its spin.

Nes’ big gamble would take four years to play out. Assuming that those that he trusted on Planet Birobidzhan played their parts well, the Yeshiva needed to be ready when the rabbis and students arrived. There was no particular reason for rushing the construction. Any gelt raised for that project was available to be invested otherwise for three and a half years. This presented Nes with a healthy slush fund that grew exponentially. Eventually, money would need to be spent as promised but with the timing right that would be essentially the interest and not the principle. 

Rifka Leeba spent less and less time at home although she did bond with her father sometimes at the pool hall. Few people would suspect such a small child of cheating at cards, or using a loaded dreidl, or palming pieces in a friendly backgammon game. Rifka Leeba never lacked for pocket change, picking up what she wanted whenever she chose to at whichever game she joined in. When not eating meals with her gaggle of cousins, Rifka Leeba would grab a bite from one of the new cafés that had sprung up in Moskve, freer with money than most children her age. 

The building of the Yeshiva might have been on hold but the hotel and casino was standing ready for guests if there was only a comfortable way of getting guests to the casino. Nes began spending money on the construction of the railway to connect his envisioned shtot to the increasingly prosperous shtot of Moskve. The resulting railway line is the high speed elevated train that now connects Moskve with Vilna. 

The rail line terminus was the casino, the station being on the second floor of the building. All disembarking passengers walk past the card tables, roulette wheels, slot machines, and dreidl platforms as well as restaurants and shops before reaching the ground level and an exit to the rest of Vilna. In fact, when within the casino, one is essentially detached from the Holy Shtot. The casino is bright and airy with plenty of light, but there are no windows on those floors, no clocks or an acknowledgement of the time of day, and plenty of distractions to keep one engaged and disconnected from time and place. It is quite possible to travel to the Holy Shtot of Vilna and spend the entire visit within the casino until all one's gelt is spent or until obligations and commitments tug at one's conscience. 

The fare for transportation, of course, is gratis in perpetuity, thanks to an endowment established by Nes. The stated reason for establishing cost-free train service between Moskve and the Holy Shtot of Vilna was to offer universal access to the Mikvah and the Yeshiva and raise the spiritual level planet wide. The money that poured into the casino was a side effect. Nonetheless, there were certainly cynics, especially in those early days, that were audacious enough to suggest that encouraging the flow of gelt into the casino and then Nes’ personal coffers was the actual purpose of the train. 

Many years would pass before any sense of the spiritual significance of Vilna on Planet Shney began to shine through beyond the purely mercantile aspects of the shtot’s earliest incarnation. The distinction between kodesh l'chol, between the holy and the profane, that we recognize with Havdalah at the end of each Shabbos is not always so very clear. Nor is it self evident that holiness can arise from such a profane foundation as Nes had built. 

This story about the mentshn of Planet Birobidzhan and Planet Shney is the continuation of the tale that evolved into a novel, The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is in print and available wherever books are sold! 

The novel can also be bought, at a discount, through this direct purchase link:

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN

Here are the links to the rest of the story as it evolves and posted so far in the blog:

1 - The Miracle of Vilna on Planet Shney 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/01/the-miracle-of-vilna-on-planet-shney.htm

2 - Nes and Shprintza Freyda Spin the Dreidl on Planet Birobidzhan 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/01/nes-and-shprintza-freyda-spin-dreidl-on.html?m=1

3 - From Shloflozikayt to the Vision of a Marvelous Shtot 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/from-shloflozikayt-to-vision-of.html

4 - A Strategy for the Yeshiva Takes Shape and Nes Opens a Pool Hall on Planet Shney 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/a-strategy-for-yeshiva-takes-shape-and.html

5 - With the Best Intentions, On a New World

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/with-best-intentions-on-new-world.html

6 - The Shliach's Flight to the Home Planet

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/04/the-shliachs-flight-to-home-planet.html

7 - Moskve on Planet Shney Grows Wealthy and Cosmopolitan

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/04/moskve-on-planet-shney-grows-wealthy.html?m=1

8 - Vilna on Planet Shney, the Early Days

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/06/vilna-on-planet-shney-early-days.html

Moskve on Planet Shney Grows Wealthy and Cosmopolitan

by Zvi Baranoff 

Rifka Leeba loved everything about Moskve and Planet Shney. Planet Shney was the only world that she had ever known. Rifka Leeba was a newborn when her parents carried her onto the shuttle. She had no recollection of the planet of her birth. The first two years of her life were aboard that cramped ship. Planet Shney had given her the space to stretch her legs. Moskve had provided her the opportunity to grow into her own person. The school was the perfect incubator for her intellectual and social development. The school also freed Rifka Leeba from her parents. 

When Rifka Leeba began attending school, her father walked with her, holding her little hand. Before very long she began rising on her own very early in the morning, before daylight, the sounds of crowing roosters serving as her wake-up call. Rifka Leeba would dress and feed herself breakfast and then slip out of the house unsupervised. She didn't depend on either of her parents, because they often were not really there for her. Her mother often slept late in the morning. Her father sometimes didn't make it back home before first light. 

Shprintza Freyda, it could be said, had grown into herself on Planet Shney. She had, after all, barely reached maturity when she had met Nes. The ensuing romance was a whirlwind. She had entered into marriage of her own free will and with her eyes wide open but in truth she was a meydl from a tiny shtetl at the time. She became pregnant shortly afterwards. When transported from the world of her birth to a distant planet, though married and a mother by then, she was still, in many ways, a country girl. So, for her, Moskve was the height of cosmopolitanism.

As the weeks, months, and years unfolded, Shprintza Freyda found more and more ways to spend her time that had nothing to do with being a wife or mother. Her involvement in theater was amateur and peripheral to begin with but she learned quickly and also endeared herself to the actors, playwrights, and audiences of Planet Shney. Before long, she was performing impressive roles in the small but vibrant theaters of Moskve. Shprintza Freyda’s afternoons were spent in rehearsals. Plays were performed in the evenings and afterwards the casts would socialize late into the night. 

It may be hard to think of Moskve at that time as being anything other than a backwater of all the inhabited places in the cosmos but it really did have a cultural presence and was on its way to becoming truly cosmopolitan. Both Shprintza Freyda and Nes played significantly in the evolution of Moskve on Planet Shney. 

Sufficient resources and leisure time are the perquisites of artistic development. Moskve had become a shtot awash in gelt. Every day, gold, pelts, and various minerals were brought from Sibir into the shtot by the miners, trappers, and traders. 

With the arrival of each shuttle from Planet Birobidzhan, new menschen arrived that contributed to the wealth of Moskve. The new arrivals paid for accommodations and sustenance. The men would then spend their nest eggs on supplies and head off to Sibir, where they would join those that had preceded them in the never-ending process of funneling wealth to Moskve. The trickling arrival of the wives that followed their husbands to Planet Shney also contributed to the economic prosperity of Moskve as many of them opened shops in town. 

Some on Planet Shney may have had suspicions that Nes didn’t sleep at all. That belief contributed to rumors of his possible sainthood. That particular imagined miracle was not exactly true, though he certainly didn't sleep much. Nes was often restlessly wandering the streets of Moskve late into the night but he would eventually climb into bed and sleep for an hour or two sometime around dawn. In the afternoon, he would sometimes doze in his office. Besides those few hours of rest and the obsessive nocturnal wanderings, Nes dedicated his life to the accumulation of wealth, operating several successful enterprises at once in a manner as one might spin several drydls at the same time. 

The pool hall had grown into a true gambling den. The operation largely functioned without much hands-on guidance from Nes. He would sit in on a card game from time to time and he played pool occasionally mostly for exercise. The day to day business was mostly handled by the young acolytes that he hired. 

Nes acquired a building adjacent to the pool hall for his shtrayml business. Nes retained his monopoly on the fur trade with Planet Birobidzhan. The trade there was handled by his trusted proxies and he certainly trusted that they acted generally in his interests with a minimal amount of skimming. He had come to realize, however, that the operation would be far more profitable if he were to take a more proactive role in the Planet Shney end of the operation. 

When Nes began to handle the purchasing of pelts directly from the trappers, he gained a level of quality control. Nes understood furs better than anyone on either Planet Shney or Planet Birobidzhan. Almost any fur can be used to keep warm. On Planet Shney it is common to use furs to line cribs and widely used even for insulation. However, only the highest quality furs could be made into shtraymlekh that were up to Nes’ exacting standards. There was no reason to ship lower quality stuff across the void to Planet Birobidzhan. Nes began paying the trappers more in order to receive the materials that would earn him more. Everyone ended up with more gelt in their pocket. Of course, a fair amount of the money earned by the trappers was gambled away at Nes’ joint next door. 

Before long, Nes hired more youth and trained them in the sorting and processing of furs. Then, he taught them to make shtraymlekh as well. Still, few people on Planet Shney actually wore a shtrayml but the finished product was shipped to Planet Birobidzhan along with the pelts. A shtrayml crafted on Planet Shney was valued highly on Planet Birobidzhan. It was perceived as having a more direct connection to Nes.

Nes’ restlessness, nonetheless, was relentless. He began making periodic fundraising tours of the tiny outposts scattered about Sabir, seeking donations for the charitable organization to fund the transportation of potential brides to Planet Shney. He spoke passionately to the miners and trappers about turning the outposts into true shtetls which would only happen with the arrival of women. The men of Sibir donated generously to the cause. Nes was able to spend these funds liberally, as he saw fit. 

With the money that was pouring in, the development of Vilna became possible. The first construction was the Mikvah, fed by the water from the hot spring The Mikvah is the spiritual center of the Holy Shtot of Vilna. The completion of the ritual bath was quickly followed by the Nes Gadol Hotel and Casino. After all, those utilizing the Mikvah certainly need a place to stay in Vilna. The luxurious swimming pool at the hotel was also fed by the water from the hot spring. It was widely believed that the water from the hot spring had a miraculous curative effect. 

In Moskve Nes contracted the construction of a theater of monumentally galactic proportions to promote the arts and as a reconciliation gesture to Shprintza Freyda. In spite of all of his financial success, Nes felt spurned by his wife. Shprintza Freyda excelled on the stage. She truly appreciated the generosity of her husband. However, the relationship between the two remained awkward and strained. 

This story about the mentshn of Planet Birobidzhan and Planet Shney is the continuation of the tale that evolved into a novel, The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is in print and available wherever books are sold! 

The novel can also be bought, at a discount, through this direct purchase link:

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN

Here are the links to the rest of the story as it evolves and posted so far in the blog:

1 - The Miracle of Vilna on Planet Shney 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/01/the-miracle-of-vilna-on-planet-shney.html

2 - Nes and Shprintza Freyda Spin the Dreidl on Planet Birobidzhan 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/01/nes-and-shprintza-freyda-spin-dreidl-on.html?m=1

3 - From Shloflozikayt to the Vision of a Marvelous Shtot 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/from-shloflozikayt-to-vision-of.html

4 - A Strategy for the Yeshiva Takes Shape and Nes Opens a Pool Hall on Planet Shney 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/a-strategy-for-yeshiva-takes-shape-and.html

5 - With the Best Intentions, On a New World

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/02/with-best-intentions-on-new-world.html

6 - The Shliach's Flight to the Home Planet

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com

7 - Moskve on Planet Shney Grows Wealthy and Cosmopolitan

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2025/04/moskve-on-planet-shney-grows-wealthy.html