The Initial Reaction

It’s an out of body, unexplainable experience. It starts you thinking and you can’t stop. How could this have happened? As a person of faith, where was God in this? This is still happening throughout the world do not tell me we have learned from this so that we don’t let it happen again because it does right this very minute. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t feel…all I could do was exist. To be in the moment learning and seeing everything. I couldn’t even take pictures. Pictures were going to be my outlet – the way I processed this experience and I couldn’t even bring myself to even put my camera together. It was only at the end as I walked down the train tracks that brought so many into Birkenau, that I gained enough courage to photograph. With every step down the uneven tracks, I could not help but think of the thousands, no over a million people who were brought in on trains to be examined like animals, to be humiliated, treated like they were of no value, stripped of their belongings, their family, down to nothing – not even an inch of clothing – naked before total strangers – to be glanced over and in a matter of seconds have their fate decided. On way – to the gas chambers. The other – to work and starvation. And to see how systematic the killings were – enter into the gas chambers underground, told to take off all of their clothing to prepare for showers, then marched in – 2,000 in one small room – less than 30 minutes their so called shower turned into rooms full of Zyklon B, and they were dead. Bodies piled on top of each other like pyramids – the last ones to die at the top as they climbed over dead strangers, friends, family, before the gas completely consumed the room for one last breathe of air before death. Or to be a camp worker moving 2,000 dead bodies every 30 minutes to the crematoriums – and sometimes you end up moving people you know – or even worse your own family. And not just Jews – although they suffered greater than any other nation of people – but political prisoners, priests, average Polish people, Gypsies, devote Christians – all killed. How do you even begin to understand? How can you help but make excuses? How can you accept excuses? So much you experience that you can’t even imagine – and then anger – absolute rage infuses every part of your body. You just want to be alone – alone in your thoughts, in your pain. You watch aimless tourists pose in front of buildings for a photograph of their tour of the “Museum.” Disgusted. But, who are you to be righteous? You do just enough perpetuating society’s stereotypes – that’s where all of this stemmed from, essentially. Stereotypes – wanting to create a perfect race. Then I think about this concept of perfection and I think about my past experiences with this. How could someone EVER desire perfection? It makes me think I cannot believe God was ever perfect – because to me being perfect means you can’t feel, you can’t express, you just do everything without flaw like a puppet or robot because our human notions of perfection – well they aren’t perfect. And we create this perfection that can only function if all other “imperfections” are gotten rid of. Ahhh everything I write – it doesn’t make sense, my words can’t explain properly, it’s so delicate and so complicated. And then I think of how badly in my own life I have perpetuated stereotypes, racism – even if it was indirectly. Guilt. Complete and utter guilt for things I have done and then guilt for my position in society – for what I was born into. Granted it is a position I was born into – but why do I get to live an easy life while others suffer and on such extreme levels that I can’t even comprehend. And this is not the first time I’ve felt any of this – but I’m so acute to these feelings and so aware of them here in this place where so many lost their lives. But so much anger and guilt. And then I think again to my upbringing, the ignorance in racism, in hatred for people because of how they choose to live life. Do you honestly think you have it all figured out? No. And just because someone’s skin is a different color or because someone chooses a different religion or lifestyle than you, you have the right to label them as bad, as wrong, to put them in a box, no, lock them in a box they can’t get out of because you were lucky enough to be born into the majority, into what the majority of society considers to be right? How about you transplant yourself as a person raised and born into a Jewish Family in Europe during this time? Or no even worse, you are raised white and some of the people you respect and love the most teach you racism, teach you that because of the color of the skin of a human being you are not allowed to be anything more than friends with that person, you are taught “they” live differently, “they” perpetuate society’s welfare system, how about because WHITES put them there? And it doesn’t end here with just people who are Jewish or people who are black, there are so many more who suffer. And really it’s never a clear issue, it’s so complex and so complicated.

I write all of this to only give you a glimpse of what went through my head today. An honest, glimpse. I spent over 7 hours today seeing things I could never imagine one human being doing to another. Places where political prisoners where starved to death, suffocated, walls where they were lined up and shot, rations of food that I can’t even fathom leaving off of, pictures of women stripped of their clothing and reduced to 1/3 of their original weight. I saw 2 tons of human hair, and then I saw carpet that was made from that hair. I saw rooms full of shoes, suitcases, pots and pans, brushes, toothbrushes. Rooms. Individual ROOMS full. Floor to ceiling full. And these were only a fraction of the warehouses that existed during the war that were full of possessions of those killed in the camps. CAN YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM WRITING TO YOU!?!!?!?! ROOMS full of basic possessions. A room full of hair belonging to women. Not only were they stripped of their clothes, naked before all, but their heads were shaved and they were stamped with a number – never to be a human, with a name, a life – just a number. And now all we have left of them is their hair. Can you imagine what 2 tons of hair looks like? I couldn’t until I saw it today. And rows and rows of barracks – barracks not even fit enough for horses, but humans were forced to live here - wooden walls like a barn, with dirt floors, small wooded bunks with hay for mattresses. Latrines in barracks next door – a whole cut out of concrete. And I complain because my shower in Prague doesn’t always work properly. We think that we face rough times, but we can’t even imagine what these people experienced and what people still suffer through today. But you tell yourself you can’t constantly live life thinking like this – but where do you find a balance, can you ever honestly? And I just get so angry again – at this, at society, at myself. And the experiments the doctors conducted on many of the children – innocent children, never allowed to be children, never allowed to grow up. Innocent young adults, my age, forced to live in these conditions. And I zip up my north face, reposition my camera bag, and think about the trips I have coming up this semester. I look at myself and think of my place and just can’t help but cry, cry for those who never got a chance to live. And suddenly, so many things you find important, you realize mean nothing in comparison to being able to live, to love, to share in the beauty of life with those closest to you. And all you want is something familiar. You want everyone you love and respect and care for there with you to experience this. Not to talk through it, just to walk beside you. To exist there with you because that’s all you can do. Words aren’t necessary, just experience. And you remember everyone you care for so deeply and you just pray that you love them enough because you owe it to those who suffered here – you owe it to yourself and to those you love. If you’ve been given this life – this chance – than you need to live it. And you need to do everything possible to really understand what it means to not let this happen again. Even if that means honestly admitting things about your upbringing or your own personal thoughts/experiences – whatever it takes to get past them – to end hatred, to end suffering, to end intolerance. You want to do whatever you can imaginable to bring hope and love and peace to a broken world. And you know you will never be able to understand this and you know you are so far from being ok with that – but at the end of the day you know what your responsibility is after you leave. You realize the challenge before you. Now the question is can you face the challenge you have been presented with? That is what an experience at Auschwitz-Birkenau is like.