Visit to Auschwitz

For quite a while now, I have been oddly intrigued by the Holocaust.  I can’t really explain why.  It probably all began when I read The Diary of Anne Frank during a vacation and spent an hour crying on the balcony of my hotel when I got to the end.  Since then, I’ve studied that period of history quite a bit during my time as a student of International Relations & European Studies at college, and I’ve read lots more on the subject, but I still just can’t wrap my brain around how something so terrible could have been allowed to happen.  Anyway, after studying the subject so much, I felt that it would be important to see the place that is attached to this tragic period of history.

So, despite the fact that it is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, I was really nervous about going to Auschwitz during my time in Krakow.  Like butterflies-in-my-stomach, slightly nauseous nervous.  Fortunately, I ended up having some moral support, as a couple of guys from my hostel decided they wanted to catch the same bus as me.  Conversation with them offered a nice distraction during the hour-long journey to Oswiecim, the town where Auschwitz is located.  I was on my own for the tour, though, since they went with a Spanish guide.  But maybe this was for the best, as it made the tour a more personal and reflective experience.  

Walking through Auschwitz, I think my brain wanted to avoid fully processing what had happened there.  It was just too terrible to comprehend.  There were moments, however, when I was overcome by the reality of the atrocities that occurred.  One thing that really got to me was a display case of clothing of children who had been at the camp.  It was heartbreaking to see those tiny hand-knit sweaters, probably made by some loving mother or grandmother, as a representation of a child that was torn away from his family, never to have a chance at a full, happy life.  I was also disturbed by a gigantic pile of shoes, each pair having once belonged to a person taken to the camp.  Strangely, it wasn’t the magnitude of the pile that got to me as much as the individual pairs of shoes and the personalities they represented.  A pair of colorful espadrille sandals that poked out of the heap, for example, brought to mind a lively young woman with a love for summertime and vacations.  A pair of well-worn oxfords conjured up the image of an ambitious, hard-working man doing his best to support his family in difficult times.  Still, one of the most difficult parts of being at Auschwitz was walking through a former barrack lined with hundreds of photos of the camp’s prisoners.  As I studied these haunting pictures, I was struck with the fleeting image of the faces of my own loved ones as the faces in the photos.  This thought forced a direct and profound connection between the people who are so dear to me, so real and important in my life, and those who were imprisoned at Auschwitz. 

I think it can be fairly easy to not fully grasp the realness of something so terrible as the Holocaust because the people involved don’t seem fully real.  We are separated from them by time, geographical distance, and perhaps religious beliefs.  But seeing a child’s lovingly-made sweater, seeing a pair of sandals that could easily belong to your sister or your best friend, seeing sorrowful eyes stare back at you from a photo …these are the things that make these people real.  You are forced to recognize that these people had once been living and breathing, laughing and worrying, celebrating and working, loving and dreaming, just like us.

So that brings me to the lesson that I took away from the difficult visit to Auschwitz—that we must not forget our fundamental connection to every other human being in this world.  This can be difficult…we live in our own little bubbles, passing each day consumed by our own troubles & triumphs.  We often forget to be mindful of what is happening to the people we have never met in a country we have never been to.  But after visiting Auschwitz, I’m reminded of how important it is to avoid this lack of consciousness.  We live in a time in which, sadly, genocides still occur, and people are still persecuted for simply being who they are.  I have hope that this won’t always be a reality.  But if that is to be the case, it is vital for us to remember that the person we’ve never met, in the country we’ve never been to, is just as human as our mother, father, sibling, or best friend.  He may be different in terms of nationality, language, or religion.  He may be unknown to us, but what is important is that he feels and thinks things are known to this, and for this reason, we should care.

Krakow

When I arrived in Krakow after a somewhat complicated bus ride, I was dead-set on having a quiet night of reading at the hostel.  Leave it to a bit of Krakow spirit and a lively group of Australians, one of whom was celebrating a birthday, to change those kinds of plans.  I had only been in Krakow a few hours when I found myself in the midst of a circle of my fellow hostellers, with the girl who had checked me in bringing everyone a round of drinks.  A couple of hours later, I was in a Krakow nightclub called Prozac (not even kidding), being instructed on how to salsa dance by an Argentinian.

Needless to say, it was a late night, and I must admit that I struggled to wake up for my eleven o’clock tour of the city.  But I soldiered on and spent the day visiting the Town Square, the Wawel Royal Castle, & the Jewish Quarter.  I also managed to squeeze in a lunch of pierogi, or Polish dumplings, which are ridiculously delicious and became the only thing I wanted to eat for the rest of my stay in Poland.  After such a full day, I stuck to my guns and stayed in that night, trying to prepare myself for the next day’s visit to the Auschwitz concentration camp.

The visit was a really difficult experience, but a really valuable one (more about that to come later…an experience like that definitely deserves an entire post).  It was a very strange, even guilt-inducing experience to spend a part of my time in Krakow at a bar, dancing with my fellow hostellers, and another part of my time making that haunting visit to Auschwitz.  But after thinking about it for a while, I decided that one of the many things we can learn from such a visit is that we would be insane to not appreciate and really live each day of freedom that we have.  If that involves having a good time with a group of people who come from all over the world, peacefully enjoying their company despite differences in nationality, age, and culture, then that’s all the better.

So, on that note, I spent my last night in Krakow dining and dancing with my hostel friends.  I was sad to leave the next day, not only ending my wonderful experiences in Krakow, but also my trip as a whole.  Fortunately, I was able to return to France with the happy knowledge that it had been a completely incredible trip.  On one hand, my thirteen days of travel flew by quickly.  On the other hand, I felt like I had been gone for weeks, judging by the amount of places I saw, the number of amazing people I got to know, and the bit of wisdom I think I gained.  If that doesn’t make for a perfect trip, I don’t know what does.

Prague

I had heard a lot about Prague before going there, so I had pretty high expectations of the place.  Fortunately, I wasn’t disappointed.   I don’t know if it’s because of the warm colors and beautiful architecture of the buildings, the lively crowds of people from all over the world that roam the streets, or maybe just all the cheap beer that is constantly flowing, but the city has a great energy about it.

I could hardly have asked for a better stay…the weather was chilly, but the sun was shining for the entirety of my four days in Prague.  My hostel was perfectly homey, I met some great people, and I managed to check everything off of my Prague sightseeing list while still enjoying Prague’s nightlife.

I accomplished all the “must-sees,” like the famous astronomical clock in Old Town Square, the Charles Bridge with its rows of Baroque statues, and of course the massive Prague Castle that perches on a hill overlooking the city.  I also visited the busy, boulevard-like Wencesclas square in New Town, the tower on Petřín Hill (which looks like a smaller version of the Eiffel Tower), the old Jewish Quarter, and the Lennon Wall.  And in between all the sightseeing, I was busy sampling the ridiculously unhealthy Czech specialty of fried cheese, drinking Czech beer, and dancing until the wee hours in one of Prague’s many night clubs.

After such a great stay, Prague is definitely going on my list of favorite places.  It felt very safe, and it is extremely tourist-friendly (many restaurants had menus in at least four languages, for example).  It is inexpensive yet elegant, historic but progressive, and small enough to be walkable while still big enough to keep visitors well-entertained.   So, if you have the chance to visit Prague, take it.  You won’t be disappointed!