Homemaking did not interest Lidia, who never leamed to cook - she described herself as 'completely unsuited' to it. The life of the intellect and working for the Zamenhof ideals was far more important to her. But unlike Zofia, who with her brusque manner and masculine appearance was, as her cousin Stephen described her, 'a bit dis- couraging, probably, to men', Lidia was not at all unfeminine. She had a great tendemess, and a great sympathy for the plight of women.
Although she was not beautiful in the usual sense, Lidia had an inner beauty that attracted those who met her; surely many of the young Esperantist men would have been honored to marry the daughter of Zamenhof. Yet perhaps the very fact that she was the daughter of the Majstro made people afraid to approach her. Throughout her life, although many admired and respected her, few people ever truly became close to her. On one occasion Lidia did confide to a friend that once she had 'lost her heart', but that was all she ever revealed ofit. Isaj Dratwer later recalled that' we Esperantists - then young men - used to say Lidia Zamenhof has only one lover, which is the Esperanto language!'
Over the years Esperanto had indeed become Lidia's great love. She had become an active member of Konkordo (Concord), a Warsaw Esperanto society, and some remembered her as its 'guiding spirit'. Ever since the Vienna congress she had served as secretary of the International Student Esperantist Association, helping to draw up its by-laws.
During the war, Lidia had begun translating Polish literature into Esperanto. Until now she had not tried to publish her translations, thinking them not good enough. She had not given up, but had kept improving her translating skills. At last she had something she was ready to publish: a collection of five short stories by the Polish author Henryk Sienkiewicz. It came out the year she finished university, published in a slim octavo volume by Hirt & Sohn in Leipzig, Germany. The reviewer from Literatura Mondo was enthusiastic, calling Lidia's translation 'distinguished and remarkable'. He added that 'it would not be surprising if the first edition quickly ran out, because the little work merits the attention of every literature-lover'.
The child who once had stubbomly refused to leam Esperanto had grown up to see in the language more than just a family legacy. Through her father's example, and his careful and gentle instruction, his ideas and beliefs - the inner idea of Esperanto - had taken root in Lidia's heart. As a child she had seen the result ofpogroms, war and the occupation ofher country. As a young woman in her teenage years and as a university student, she had observed the war's aftermath of suffering, further injustice and revenge- the very things her father had . warned of — and she believed that peace would not come until there was brotherhood and justice among all the peoples of the world. But this could not occur until they could communicate with each other. Esperanto, she believed, provided the ideal means for that.
Although Ludwik Zamenhof had become convinced that the unification of mankind would only come about through a world religion, Lidia at twenty-one was not interested. in religion. By her own account she had believed in God as a child, but had lost this faith. By 1925 Lidia Zamenhof was, as she described herself, 'an atheist'.
As a sensitive young woman, Lidia must have felt deeply the conflict of national identity that troubled many young Polish Jews from non- religious families. She identified herself as a Jew, though a secular one. Although Lidia described herself officially by the Polish term wyznania mojzeszowego (of Mosaic Faith), which was preferred to the literal 2.yi (Jew) by those who wished to distance themselves culturally from orthodox Polish Jewry, she disdained those Jews who denied their Jewish affiliation and who tried to 'pass' as Gentiles, sometimes even converting to Catholicism in an attempt to further their careers. Yet Lidia loved Poland too, and felt a great affinity for Polish literature.
Among the Esperantists in Poland between the wars, the majority were Jews. There were some notable exceptions, though these were few. Most Poles were cold toward Esperanto. Fiercely patriotic, they still remembered a time under foreign domination when the languages of other nations had been imposed on them. One might have expected them to understand the need for a neutral auxiliary language, but the general attitude at that time in Poland was 'unfriendly', recalled Eugen Rytenberg, who taught Esperanto in Warsaw during the 1930S. Most Poles considered Esperanto 'a Jewish affair', Lidia later said, and they wanted to have nothing to do with it.
But in the international Esperanto movement, Lidia met people from all over the world, some from countries that had only a short time ago fought a bitter war against each other. To most ofthe Esperantists, differences of nationality or religion meant little. Even if they did not all share a fervent belief in the 'inner idea', at least they considered themselves brothers and sisters in nia kara lingvo (our dear language). Among the Esperantists Lidia was at home.
The Seventeenth Universal Congress of Esperanto was to be held in Geneva, Switzerland. Lidia went with her sister Zofia. Years later she reminisced: 'When in the summer of 192$ I took a train to go from Warsaw to Vienna and from Vienna to Geneva in order to attend the Esperanto congress held that year in the City of Nations, I did not imagine that each turn of the wheels was bringing me nearer to a contact which was to mean Life for me.'
After two sleepless nights Lidia arrived in Geneva. The city was just recovering from a heat wave, and Saturday, the first of August, was beautiful. As it was the Swiss national holiday, that evening the tree- lined quais along Lake Leman were festooned with lights, music played, and fireworks boomed out over the lake, reflected their colors on its surface. At eight o'clock the night vibrated as all the churchbells in Geneva pealed in celebration. The Esperantists, enjoying their 'Get- Together Evening', strolled in the university's Promenade des Bastions, the gardens decorated with lights, while musicians entertained them.
In Geneva, newspaper articles had been appearing about the congress for two weeks before it began, and just before the meeting opened the Tribune de Geneve had printed a long article sympathetic to Esperanto. 'It is no longer the-time for facilejests and anti-Esperantist nonsense,' wrote the reporter. 'Today that is left to the ignorant, because it is in serious circles, whether practical people . . . or academics and scholars . . . that Esperanto counts its most earnest champions.'
A number of Geneva's postal employees and gendarmes had been studying Esperanto so they could assist the thousand participants expected to attend the congress. The Esperanto-speaking gendarmes could be recognized - how else? - by a green star embroidered on the sleeve of their tunics.
On Sunday, the day the congress was to begin, Geneva was shrouded in gray skies that poured rain all day. But just in time for the opening ceremony the rain stopped.
At eight o'clock the crowd filled opulent Victoria Hall. After the welcoming speeches, Edmond Privat rose to speak. He reminded the audience how in the same hall, nineteen years earlier, Ludwik Zamenhof had spoken to them of the pogroms in Bialystok. That evening Zamenhof had told them not to blame any nation or people, but rather the darkness which causes men to act toward each other in such a beastly and savage manner. 'Give forth the light of mutual understanding, show forth the light of mutual knowledge and friendship,' said Privat, 'those were the words of Zamenhof at the Geneva congress. And when I remember that, I think also about all those geniuses who, as he did, always strove to bring this world some light. . . greatmeninthisworldhavealwaysworkedforthelight. . .'