well i’m on my way…

That’s the literal translation for “Arbeit Mach Frei”, the words across most of the entrance gates to concentration camps in Europe.  Since Auschwitz is about an hour and a half bus ride from Krakow, we decided to submit ourselves to the horror.  It was my second time at Auschwitz (the first time none of the exhibits were open) and my third time visiting a concentration camp.  I’m sick, I know.  It was definately my last time, though.  I can’t put myself through that any more. 

Some people ask, “Why go?”  And I’ve come up with various reasons, but there was a quote in one of the buildings that sums it up perfectly:  “The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again” -George Santayana

I walked in and read the first sign.  It was in Polish, English, and Hebrew.  Hebrew!  I wondered to myself if that many Jews really came here there is a need for signage in Hebrew.  As I was pondering this, a man dressed as a Hacidic (sp?) Jew walked by.  There was my answer.  I wondered then what his nightmares would be like that night.  Then I wondered how mine would be. 

I walked into a courtyard where lots of people were murdered, at the end of it is the infamous Execution Wall where mostly Poles were killed.  As I entered the courtyard and passed through the gates, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the about-to-be-executed heads?  Did they walk through, head high, ready to look death in the face, stare him down and give him a big Screw You; were they glad to stop suffering; did they cry and wail for their family; did mothers pray for their children, their health, safety, to be free from the brutality of this place?  I saw people crossing themselves, crying.  I got a little misty-eyed myself.  I walked out and noticed the gateway, the gateway out of the courtyard.  How many people have walked through these gates, never to walk the reverse route, never to see the backside of this wall?  No one knows how many, but I know the answer:  TOO MANY. 

A few months ago, I traveled with Naomi in New Zealand.  Naomi is Jewish and taught me a lot about her religion and heritage.  She even brought me to a Passover Seder, where I got a real sense of what community is like within her religion.  Now I know more about the Jewish religion, history, and culture, it’s more sad, more terrible, and affected me more than it had before.  I kept on thinking about the Seder, and how happy everyone was, and all I could wonder was “How…” 

 There were many buildings housing exhibits, but the most terrifying ones were the displays of possessions that were taken away:  suitcases, shoes, prosthetic limbs, combs.  One of the worse ones was the room full of hair.  Most of it was grey, but there were some brown braids nestled among the rest of it.  Terrible, terrible.  I cried that day.  I’m not much of a crier.  (The last time I cried was in Copenhagen, when I almost lost my ATM card.  The time before that was years ago.)

I was at a loss for words that day, and trying to write about it, I feel that no words can adequately express how I felt.  Or even what I saw. 

We took the bus to Auschwitz 2, which I hadn’t seen before, and that was were most of the killing happened.  There were some buildings still standing, where the people lived, but most of them were gone since they were all made of wood.  What is left though, are the chimneys.  It’s eerie looking out at a field with nothing but chimney stacks.  One of the buildings still had all the bunks still in it.  It’s amazing how so many people could fit in such a  tiny space. 

We walked around the perimeter of the grounds and was amazed by the enormity of it.  We saw remnants of the execution chambers and a pond where ashes were dumped.  There was a sparsely forested area that seemed peaceful and I could hear birds chirping and singing.  But people waited here before they were killed.  How could a place that seems so peaceful have a history that it does?  And then I started wondering what these trees have witnessed.  Where some buildings stood and have only foundations left grass is starting to grow over the remnants.  It’s amazing to me that life can still form in this place. 

We left, feeling like shit, and slept on the bus ride back.  No one spoke on the overcrowded bus; everyone was probably trying to sort out their own emotions, which…you can’t.  It was an emotionally draining day.  And I can’t believe that we all submitted ourselves to it.  And so many people do. 

We left Krakow the next day.  I don’t think we could have stayed any longer.  The atmosphere of Auschwitz would only have hung over us in Krakow.     

We arrived in Krakow around ten, but due to an outdated phamplet, we didn’t get to the hostel until midnight.  We dropped off our bags and went out in search of food and beer.  We found a 24 hour pierogie place and indulged-Ryan a mixture of meat, mushroom, and potato and potato and cheese for me.  We drizzled what we thought was olive oil and vinegar on our pierogies but found out they were these sweet syrups.  Still not bad though.  We found a literal hole in the ground pub (through a cellar door) and had a Tyskie (my favorite Polish beer!) each-we were so tired, unlike the other people at the bar who kept on disappearing and coming back with more and more energy.  Nice first impression for Ryan.   Held up to the impression he had, since the Swede from Budapest told us he got robbed in Krakow.  Twice. 

We learned that there was a free concert on the Vistula River for the Wainki, a traditional Polish Midsummer Night festival.  It’s been going on for centuries, but in the last few years, the legislation of Krakow has been throwing concerts of artists ’with international status’ to ‘put Krakow on the European map’.  (I’m pretty sure Auschwitz has already done that.)  Last year Jamiroquai (sp?) played, and this year it was Lenny Kravitz. I don’t hate Lenny Kravitz, but he’s OK.  Some of his radio songs are sweet, and I really like his acoustic version of “Fly Away”. 

So we had a few Tyskies at the hostel before packing more into my purse and heading down to the main square to follow the masses to where the actual concert was being held.  We discovered that the stage was set up on the river, and the crowd was hanging out on the bridges around it-there was quite a bit of water between the stage and the crowd.  We both thought it ruined part of the concert-going atmosphere, not to mention the sound quality.  Lenny started the show by saying “I’m here, but you’re over there, but you can still feel the love…”  The crowd was ridiculous, with people pushing and shoving, no one could even dance, I couldn’t lift my beer to my lips, people were fighting, I’m sure over pushing and shoving.  There was a kid on his father’s sholders, speaking in a taunting voice to people around him in Polish.  I bet he was saying “Haha, I can see and you can’t.”  It was crazyier than most crowds I’ve been in.  No one really cared about Lenny Kravitz, as everyone clapped politely when each song was over, but they did chant “Len-nay” after his encore was done.  

After the show was one of the best fireworks displays I’ve seen in my life.  Lots of massive gold explosions and spiraly fireworks-all to the music from Requim for a Dream-which made it kind of creepy (for those of you who don’t know, Requim is a film about heroin addicts) but the music is beautiful.  The fireworks display definately made up for the Lenny concert. 

    

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