Reflections and Revisions

I thought I would share with you some of the poems that were written by fellow participants of MRH 2011 during our debriefing sessions following each Camp visit.

This trip sparked much creativity and I look forward to seeing what we all do with that in the future.

Poem by Devin Heroux, Saskatoon:

Just when there were no more tears, there were tears.

Just when there was belief, there was disbelief.

And just when all the fear was gone, the fear was everywhere.

Just when the suffering had stopped, they suffered.

When it was dark, it got darker.

And when it finally got to be it's darkest, there was a flicker; a light.

And just when it seemed hopeless, there was hope.

Finally, just when all the faith was lost, there was God.

Poem by Jeremy Finkelstein, Montreal:
The tracks of venom role into their lives,
So serene into the Auschwitz hive,
I can't comprehend this route of death,
How could Canada not look right or left,
The Holocaust hurt my family and haunted the world,
The train is still moving my emotions word by word.


Poem by Allison Miceli, Burlington:
I walked, we marched.
To places that are laid with the ashes of those who were
victims to this. Speechless.

Words are difficult to find as stones
beneath our feet shift in the Earth, the same
Earth where they once stood too. Same place
different time, different reason. Space.

All affected in a different way, yet similarities
emerge in thoughts and feelings. At the same time
silence and tears were all that came. Thoughts.

In a place so large at times felt so small. An ear to
hear breaks, a hand to touch a worn beam,
a sound of walking in the wind. Surreal.

A circle representing friendship, support, love,
and hope emerged in this place. Stories were told,
music present, homage aid, a promise made. A stone laid.

The truth still runs, brakes still squeal, cargo is
still unloaded, but not for the same reason and
never again it will. Hope.

Day 5 Journal: Majdanek and Shabbat

20 May 2011: Majdanek Concentration Camp, drive to Warsaw, Shabbat dinner

Approaching the Soviet Memorial at Majdanek. What do you
see in the stones?

My only experiences with Lublin are a mix of emotion. I didn't go out to explore the town last night, although it looks gorgeous: it's centre block very stereotypical European: cobble stone streets littered with patios and surrounded by gorgeous old buildings and architecture. I did, however, explore at noon time today, over laughs of being jipped on gelato and not quite knowing what I ordered for lunch. I am a very proud Canadian, and as much as I am falling in love with Europe, Canada is always home to me. We, too, have a rich history and gorgeous street and landscapes, we just don't recognize it until we're away from home.

The unique and lovely (frustrating? annoying? hysterical?) experience that was lunch was after a very emotional morning at Majdanek, one of the camps where Pinchas was sent during the occupation of Poland, and the "Final Solution".

Gas Chamber at Majdanek Extermination Camp. Hole on R
was used to insert gas into the chamber, hole on L to watch
/ ensure all are dead.

Majdanek is located only 4km from the centre of Lublin, Poland. Hauntingly close to civilization, I couldn't help but wonder, and be angry, about the Poles and other civilians living nearby that had to have known about the atrocities taking place, literally in their backyard. Were the repercussions really that bad to stand up for a human right? I don't know what would have happened, and I really don't know what I would have done, had it been me, but I can't imagine living with myself knowing that maybe I could have saved one soul.

Majdanek, an extermination camp with the crematorium still "intact" was haunting to be at. I can't say today was harder than being at Auschwitz or Birkenau, but it was difficult actually being in the crematorium. I just can't imagine being directed to load bodies into the ovens. I can't imagine the smell of these bodies, the smoke, the ash, overriding the whole camp, the surrounding town...

I've never been fully affected hearing that 6 million were murdered during the Holocaust. I can't relate to that number; I've never seen 6 million of something. But seeing 20,000 pairs of shoes in one of the barracks made it real. I could physically see the number. I couldn't believe the amount. And the smell of the hot leather, the stale air in the barracks. This was powerful.

Memorial at Majdanek. Standing area
between the stone and the "cap". Ash
located in the centre, seen from standing
area.

What really touched me today was the memorial next to the crematorium. 70,000 tonnes of human ash. And one human makes approximately 2 cups. A number is just that; but this almost put a face to it. I was standing looking at how many thousand people. A quick google search of the weight of human ash and the number of pounds in a tonne tells me that we were looking at roughly 47,000 people. We had a small ceremony here, at the memorial. Pinchas sung hymns and heartbreaking testimonies to family members that escaped the war and did not endure this, were read.

This was so powerful and emotional for me: we all truly shared a connection - the same cause. We were not only honoring those whose ashes were in front of us, but those who were brave, strong, and hopeful...the past, the present, and the future.

I felt so proud to be there at that moment; so blessed to be with such wonderful friends, my new family, and to offer a shoulder, a hand to hold, or just that special connection...that we all can unite and care for humanity.

This evening was also the Shabbat dinner: to welcome the Sabbath at sundown, for the Jewish day of rest. I am so thankful to have done this trip; where I not only had the opportunity to visit these sites - some which I never would have on my own as a tourist - but to be accompanied by several people of the Jewish faith, whether religious or cultural. This has given me such an opportunity to really enhance and further my own knowledge, and now I don't want to stop. Being able to take part in and listen to many different hymns and prayers of the Jewish faith, has enhanced this learning experience for me. Music played such a large role for the Jews in these camps, as it kept them grounded, and was also an important factor in this trip.

Shabbat Dinner at the hotel, in Warsaw.

The Shabbat was a beautiful ceremony as more hymns were sung and we were all invited to join in - I felt honored. The pre-dinner ceremony included sharing our own personal narratives; what is family? Tradition? Community? On top of this, dinner was delicious, and I may or may not have eaten too much hallah bread. I will be doing a whole post on the role of music, and our ceremonies, at a later date. Stay tuned...


Please check out these two links (here and here) for a compiled video on our day at Majdanek, as composed by Dmitri Panfilenko, one of the students on the trip.

Another article, should you be interested: "Germany's WWII Occupation of Poland", from Spiegel Online International.

"I know that people can be taught to hate, but I also know that people can be taught to love" - Juliet Karugache, MRH 2001

Day 4 Journal: Krakow, Plashov and driving to Lublin

19 May 2011: Krakow, Plashov Concentration Camp, drive to Lublin

Memorial in/for the Krakow ghetto

Today was a day to reflect, place myself in the time and place, and be grateful.

We spent the morning in Krakow, and it was another beautiful, sunny day, which I struggled with. How am I to get the full effect, picture these places within their historical context? How were they pre-war? During? How have they changed? I'm finding it hard as I have read so many novels, texts, articles, and seen so many pictures - first and second-hand accounts. This city is beautiful, and looks nothing like what I've seen before.

Today's events started with visiting several synagogues; big, small, old, new, fancy, plain. I am so thankful to be able to travel with so many people of the Jewish faith. It is not only rounding out my experience as I understand the traditions and commemorations, but I am interested in this. We also visited several Jewish cemeteries; beautiful places full of faith, tradition, and love.

But through this, there is still hate. While entering one of the Synagogue's today, we noticed a swastika painted on the door, a fresh coat of paint trying to cover it. We were silent. No one drew attention to it. No one needed to say it: that was a slap in the face to the program, to our mission, to our passion for humanity, and love; no matter the difference, race, gender...I wept, here. The people we're commemorating, honoring; what did this mean to them? How could things progress so far in the world, yet so little? I couldn't believe this. I'll never understand, but I'll fight.

From here, we visited the Krakow ghetto: the place where so many were rescued by Schindler. I loved the memorial here - fitting, but abstract. Abstract as Hitler's views and plans were. I was, however, surprised at the size of the ghetto. A short bus tour to show us Schindler's Factory and several bits of original ghetto wall really laid things out and allowed us to get the full picture.

Soviet Monument at Plashov

From here, we visited Plashov Concentration Camp, located just on the outskirts of Krakow. This camp is the camp re-created and represented in Schindler's List, the camp where Amon Goethe had his home, held Helen Rosenzweig (his servant, represented in Schindler's List), and the camp where dogs were first (or most commonly? Sorry this isn't accurate info) used to "hunt" humans.

A single monument now stands on the site of this camp, which is now a park. This monument, towering over the area, reminded me a bit of the Vimy Memorial, but also of Easter Island or Stonehenge. Such an abstract, beautiful, stone, large, haunting, and over-riding monument. I can't imagine that this site was once so ugly.

I can't go in to the details surrounding this monument, this site, and the stories we heard here. The memories are still too fresh and painful, and these blogs are becoming difficult to write. The monument was beautiful, and gave me goosebumps as I approached, seeing it's magnitude. It's a go-to place for sure. 


At Plashov, Pinchas told us part of his story, as well as a heart-warming story of love, friendship and hope that rose from the ashes of the Holocaust. This is the epitome of what we're doing: providing that little bit of hope in a scary, ugly, broken world. Through Pinchas' story, he has provided us with this. And through telling his story, I hope to provide others with this.

Pinchas, speaking.

In short, the remainder of the day involved a long drive to the town of Lublin, where Majdanek is located, and an early bed, after standing in the hallway to access wireless and do a blogpost, which you can find here.

Before bed, we had a ceremony by the first and second generation survivors on the trip: students with parents and grandparents who went through the Holocaust. I plan on doing a whole blog, or series of several, on the ceremonies throughout the trip at a later date.

Again, I leave with you several articles; things to think about, and hopefully to spark your own action:

"Srebrencia: Worst European atrocity since WWII", a CNN.com article.

"New Book: Vatican helped Nazis escape", a Ynetnews article.

"Love is something if you give it away, you'll end up getting more" - kindergarten song, as sung to us by Faigie Libman.

The History of Auschwitz

As explained in Auschwitz Birkenau: Memorial and Museum, a book I purchased at Auschwitz.

Candles and flowers in memorial for those who lost their
lives here, at the Death Wall in Auschwitz. Many were
lined up and shot, here.

"The world has come to know Auschwitz as a symbol of state terrorism, genocide, and the Holocaust. The Nazis opened it in 1940 on the outskirts of the city of Oswiecim, which, like much of Poland, came under German occupation during World War II. The Germans changed the name of the city to "Auschwitz", and this also became the name of the camp.

The camp expanded over the following years until it compromised three main parts: Auschwitz I, Auschwitz II-Birkenau, and Auschwitz II-Monowitz, as well as more than 40 sub-camps. Initially, Poles were imprisoned in the camp and died there. Later, they were joined by the Soviet prisoners of war, Roma (Gypsies), and prisoners of other nationalities. Beginning in 1942, the camp became the scene of the largest mass murder in human history, committed against the Jews of Europe as part of the Nazi plans for the total extermination of that people. The majority of the Jews deported to Auschwitz - men, women, and children - were sent directly after arrival to their deaths in the Birkenau gas chambers.

Nazis managed to destroy the crematorium and gas chambers
at Birkenau, and this is all that remains. The crematorium at
Auschwitz I is a reconstruction, but we saw the "real deal"
at Majdanek, several days later. 

It is estimated that at least 1,100,000 Jews were sent to the camp from Nazi-occupied Europe. Nearly 150,000 Poles, some 23,000 Roma from several European countries, over 15,000 Soviet prisoners of war, and over ten thousand prisoners from other countries were also sent to Auschwitz. The majority of them perished there.

In an effort to remove the evidence of their crimes, the SS began dismantling or demolishing the gas chambers and crematoria, along with other buildings, at the end of the war. They also burned the records. They evacuated prisoners capable of marching to the depths of the Reich. Red Army soldiers liberated those who remained in the camp (around 7,000) in January 1945."

"Hope is the last to die" - Halia Birenbaum (Title of her book).

Day 3 Journal: Auschwitz

18 May 2011: Auschwitz

Today, I am thinking of the sounds we do not hear, the stories we do not know, and the smells we cannot smell, or even begin to replicate. (and today, 27 May, I am still thinking of these. I will always. Haunted? No. But this emptiness, these intricate family trees, these vast memories that are wiped...that will always remain with me).

Someone, in our group gathering tonight, described today in simple terms: "I don't know how much I don't know...and that's screwed". This realization, this fear, is so true. We know the stories of violence, of lies and hatred towards the Jewish race, but we don't know so much more than what we do.

I didn't sleep well last night: I was anxious and nervous. How would I react to visiting these places of horror? I tried to eliminate any and all expectations, so I could experience the camps to the best of my ability, take in as much as I could - emotionally, intellectually and physically being in that place.

I still have no words. I can't believe. I have to, but I can't believe that members of the ONLY race - the human race - could commit such crimes on each other, inflict such pain on another; a fellow brother or sister. I will never understand and the beginning of trying to is hard. There is no way to understand, to feel, to comprehend. All I know is that it was all very real, it still is in our minds, and I must act. I must try and tell you about it, and try and stop further genocides. The deep sadness, the pain and the sorrow I felt overcame me as I broke down. Shoes. Hair. Nothing remains but tears, memories, stories, and the imagination. And if it hurts that much just being in this place, with the presence of spirits? Oh, I hope a human must never understand or feel such a Holocaust, again.

Main gate into Auschwitz: "Arbeit Mact Frei", translating
to "Works Makes you Free".

After visiting Auschwitz, we visited Auschwitz II-Birkenau. Our March through the gates, the famous photo representing Auschwitz/Birk was a humbling experience, and I felt like I was doing something wonderful. A past participant of MRH described the March as:

"That March [to Birkenau] encompasses all that I experienced and felt throughout the journey ... No one spoke a word, but it was not silence that I heard. It was the tramp of our feet on this journey of remembrance, the sound of our determination to never let the same horror happen agin. And it was then that I realized that even a small walk like ours was a step in our efforts to change the world." - Natasha Mansoor, MRH 2010.

I couldn't agree more. Wearing the MRH shirt with Yehuda Bauer's quote about not being a bystander gave me such a sense of empowerment. I was making a change. I marched through the Gates with my head held high, with Philip Riteman in mind, with Faigie, with Pinchas, honouring every survivor, and every soul that did not make it. And I acknowledged the other tour groups and lone tourists that smiled and nodded at us. Whether they spoke our language or not; whether they understood our March and our purpose or not is to be debated, but they knew it was for good. And that we care, we will love, we will not repeat history. Never Again.

Taking comfort in one another as we March to Birkenau.

It was a beautiful sunny day today, an odd feeling as we walked the cobble stone paths and dirt roads between barracks and sites of horror, death and danger. It wasn't the expected aura, or the preferred. I am grateful it did not pour rain, but the clear blue sky, the fresh new green grass and the songs of sweet birds offered the area as beautiful, something that through it's gates, it is not. 

I was amazed at the sheer scale and precision of these camps. Auschwitz, full of exhibits, artifacts, and findings at the camp upon liberation, showed the extreme caution the Nazi's took in not only how they convinced, tricked, and lied to the Jews but Birkenau displayed the organization of the Nazi regime and the camps through the size, scale and layout of the camp. I can't imagine this place as it was not that many years ago; a housing ground for humans, treated as animals. A cage that one is ever released from. 

Tracks leading out of Birkenau. The
famous entrance off in the distance,
displaying the size of the camp.

The hate of Hitler, Himmler, and the remainder of the SS squads and the Nazi soldiers sustained throughout the camp. Yet I'll still never understand. No matter how many times I repeat that single line. It just becomes true even more so. 

As Faigie shared her story of how she (miraculously) stayed with her mother throughout the camps, and how she survived Birkenau, she told us she was passing on the torch - that we are now empowered, and we are experts in our own stories. We have heard their stories, we have witnessed and visited these sites, and we now have a duty to share this, to work towards more people being in our shoes, experiencing, seeing. Faigie's story touched my heart and gave me such strength, and sense of power to overcome any obstacles in my own life with a little help from family and friends, but really gave me an overwhelming surge of strength as I have a purpose, a story to tell, and a witness account and reason to do so.

I can't piece together today...not yet. I can't imagine, but need to take time. Heal. So then I can help heal others. Prevent others from needing this healing. All I can do is hope. Hope for a better tomorrow.

Disclaimer: This evening we went to a wonderful little restaurant in Old Town Krakow for a delicious, and traditional, Polish meal. Following dinner was exploring the Krakow nightlife and cellar bars. While there are many stories from this part of the day, I am feeling emotionally drained after "revisiting" Auschwitz through this post. These photos and stories are for another day. 

Disclaimer 2: I will also be setting up a Flickr account and posting all of my photos there for your viewing. When I have this up and running, I will let you know via this blog. I have, however, spared you of photos of the exhibits in this blog. These photos will be on my Flickr page, giving you the option to quickly pass these by, if you wish. Viewer discretion is advised. The dehumanization that went on is just unreal, unimaginable, and so heartbreaking. 

In closing, I pass on another interesting site to you. This project, a beautiful idea for a beautiful woman and very strong survivor, is being passed around through my MRH Facebook friends right now.

"Human beings are made up of two things: spirit, and the instinct to survive." - Pinchas Gutter.

Rediscovering Society

Myself, Dustin, and Allison at Verona Restaurant in
Krakow, Poland.

Taking a break from revisiting my journal, I thought I'd update on what's going on in my head, today. (However, check back later today and in following days for the next week for the remainder of my journal articles).

My post from yesterday, which you can read here, was pumped out while I sat at my local Starbucks. Irrelevant in the bigger picture, but there's a method to my madness.

It feels weird to be back in my normal life here in Fredericton. It feels weird to wake up in the morning, late,  and spend the first part of my day lazing around. It felt weird going out to dinner with friends last night and even odd to be walking around downtown with my best friend tonight. My life here feels so insignificant compared to the life of the European Jews during WWII. My problems feel minimal in comparison.

I was only away for 10 days. And I only had 10 days to connect with the people that I did. But just 10 days made a huge difference. Both in my outlook on life, and in the way that I'm feeling now: in the connection back into my regular life. I'm finding it hard to carry on with my daily activities, and I'm feeling nervous about starting work again on Saturday. I am excited, don't get me wrong. But nervous. Unsure. Fearful, and at a loss of words.

Myself, in Old Town Warsaw.

I'm already struggling when people ask me how my trip was. I panic. Was it good? Sure it was. I met wonderful people, and we did have laughs: on the bus, at the bars, at dinner. And it was educational, sure. But how do I really explain it? I can't. "Good" doesn't do it justice. "Educational" is an understatement. How do I really explain how much love I have right now for all of humanity, for everyone I pass in the hallways and on the street, and how do I explain how I am seeing through the lens of my own life right now? How I view others, myself, and how I draw on history to live my life? I can't possibly. And how do I possibly explain the feelings I'm having that are directly related to the sites we visited, the basis of the trip I just completed? I can't. I can't even explain them to myself, in my head. So there's no way I can put these in words when you ask me how my trip was. It was all of these blog posts and so much more. So much that maybe no one will ever know. Maybe I won't even realize and recognize it.

I woke up last night from a bad dream. This was the first of my healing process. Recognizing what I saw, what I learned. And this blog, this particular post, and those to come - of my journal entries and my frustrations - are part of that process, as well. And I thank you for allowing this to be that outlet.

I am so thankful I have 59 other people that, in some way or other, feel the same as I do, and are therefore able to coach me, help me, and allow me to vent. I have always wanted to visit Auschwitz, and am so happy I did it in this learning environment, with others. I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't recommend it be done any other way.

But I just can't seem to "fit" back into society, just yet. My thoughts are running rapidly, and my mouth can't seem to place them, put them into words. No one understands. No one will. The impact this trip had on me, these people had on me. And we will never understand how they felt. The millions that can't tell their story like Pinchas and Faigie.

I just want to stand up and scream. Because you don't understand. And I need to learn to let myself reflect, to come to terms with what I saw, to trust in humanity again; to continue to love. But it's hard. I just need to come to terms with this myself, and then I should be fine. For now, though, I feel as if I have a screen in front of me. To say I had a great trip, I learned a lot, and yes you should apply next year. But that screen is starting to tear as I enter society, step outside my door, and face the tough questions of curious friends and family. Time heals all, though, right?

But, for now, I hope that you can continue to be patient with me, continue to read my posts, and understand my trip through these small glimpses, these history lessons, these questions that I still don't - and maybe never will - understand, but still search to answer.

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight" - Reggie White.

Day 2 Journal: Berlin and drive to Krakow

17 May 2011: Berlin, Germany / Krakow, Poland

Fields of rapeseed (used in
canola oil) hug the highway
throughout Poland.

We're 6 hours into our 9 hour drive to Krakow from Berlin, and the bus is silent. Perhaps we're exhausted from the long plane ride and rushing around Berlin yesterday and this morning, or perhaps the realization that tomorrow is the big day - we'll be visiting Auschwitz I and II - Birkneau - and there is much mental, and physical preparation needed.

Our drive has been long, and exhausting. We stopped, however, along the highway at a McDonalds for supper - something that lifted our spirits and provided some giggles as all 60 of us piled in, ordering salads and Big Macs. Surprisingly, it was good. Allison and I shared a salad and a Big Mac, but the burger wasn't greasy, the fries weren't salty. Perhaps this fits into the realization that European food is healthier, or perhaps my mind just told me it was delicious after such a long bus ride.

Entering Poland was a surprise, for me. I expected being stopped, showing our Passports, getting a stamp, etc, etc and a security check as often happens when crossing into Maine / the United States from Canada. My expectations, yet again, failed me. The border was simply a falling down shack labeled "currency exchange" on the side of the highway, with several German Police Cars parked nearby. No sign. No stopping. No nothing. However, the road drastically changed. The first hour and a bit of the drive in Poland was on the highway Hitler had built to enter the country: it's only connection to Berlin, at the time. I'm sure there has been some restoration / upkeep since the 1940s, however, it didn't feel like it as we bumped and thrashed around. It's all part of the experience, right? (Deciphering my journal entry regarding this was quite a task).

Myself (sorry it's blurry) in front of the Wannsee Villa, Berlin.

This morning we finished our time in Berlin. I'm still just so stricken that so much history - so much terrible history, and so many atrocities - took place in such a beautiful city. And that so much of this was legitimized. That blows my mind, breaks my heart, brings tears in my mind. I'll never understand. In some ways, I understand how: we visited the Wannsee Villa, where the conference took place in January 1942. I understand how these things were legitimized with Hitler's extreme power, but at the same time, I'll never understand how. Or why.

I'm feeling anxious regarding tomorrow's itinerary, as I already feel I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, yet I haven't seen half of what I need to, and will, yet. And yet so many people in the world don't know, or don't care to educate themselves. And that hurts me; that's a sin in itself.

Poland is absolutely gorgeous. I'm finding it similar to Canada in some ways, yet differing greatly. One of the guys on the bus said it reminds him of Saskatchewan: it's very flat, and I'm also noticing "shelter belt" kind of tree lines around farms to break up the vast fields. Interesting...

Key Points of Interest / Other Places Visited Today:

Plaques surrounding the Track, stating the date, how many
Jews were taken, and to where. Numbers ranged from 18 to
almost 2000/day.

Gleis 17: "Berlin-Grunewald is a railway station in the Grunewald district of Berlin. Beginning on October 18, 1941 its now infamous Gleis 17 (Track 17) was one of the major sites of deportation of most of the 55, 000 Berlin Jews. The trains left mainly for the ghettos of Litzmannstadt and Warsaw, and from 1942 went directly to the Auschwitz and Theresienstadt concentration camps. On October 18, 1991 a monument was inaugurated at the ramp leading to the former freight yard. A memorial was established on January 27, 1998." (MRH Notebook 2011). We started this morning at Track 17, where so many Jews were shipped to their destiny, never returning. The train station, still in use today, even still uses a Track 17 (unsure how I feel about this). I was, however, surprised by the area: very wealthy, gorgeous and built up. I'm not sure what I expected of Berlin but I was surprised that all of Berlin, especially this area, was so built up and gorgeous: not in ruins. I closed my eyes and tried to place myself in this spot, years earlier. Feeling the tracks, the rocks, and the monument on the walkway up to the track was hard for me. Using my sense of touch made this real for me. 

Monument leading up to the track at Gleis 17, Grunewald,
Berlin, Germany.

The beautiful Wannsee
Villa, facing the lake.

Wannsee Villa: "On January 20, 1942, fifteen high-ranking Nazy party and German government leaders gathered for an important meeting. They met in a wealthy section of Berlin at a villa by a lake known as Wannsee. Reinhard Heydrich, who was SS chief Heinrich Himmler's head deputy, held the meeting for the purpose of discussing the "final solution to the Jewish question in Europe" with key non-SS government leaders, including the secretaries of the Foreign Ministry and Justice, whose cooperation was needed. The "final solution" was the Nazis' code name for the deliberate, carefully planned destruction, or genocide, of all European Jews. The Nazis used the vague term "final solution" to hide their policy of mass murder from the rest of the world. In fact, the men at Wannsee talked about methods of killing, about liquidation, about "extermination". The Wannsee Conference, as it became known to history, did not mark the beginning of the "Final Solution". The mobile killing squads were already slaughtering Jews in the occupied Soviet Union. Rather, the Wannsee Conference was the place where the "final solution" was formally revealed to non-Nazi leaders who would help arrange for Jews to be transported from all over German-occupied Europe to SS-operated "extermination" camps in Poland. Not one of the men present at Wannsee objected to the announced policy. Never before had a modern state committed itself to the murder of an entire people." (MRH Notebook, 2011). The Wannsee Villa, now a beautiful museum, was full of information and historical background the Holocaust: very useful in preparation for our day, tomorrow. The museum was full of very detailed files and documents; the # of Jews in Europe before the "final solution" came into play, photos, plaques, testimonies, etc, etc. Thinking back on one of our Webinars, everything rang true. It was weird to be sitting here, in a beautiful home, looking out at a gorgeous lake, and a beach across the water, listening to birds sing. It was so beautiful there, but haunting, knowing that such atrocities were planned here. 

Original document, outlining the
number of Jews throughout Europe.

Memorial attached to lamp post in Berlin. These are directed
to the German population, rather than tourists, in hopes that
history will not repeat itself. Never Again.

Bayerische Platz: "On the streets around Bayerische Platz, a comfortable middle-class neighbourhood in former East Berlin, is an unusual memorial in the form of an art installation: simple signs attached to lamp posts that illustrate the gradual isolation and dehumanization of German Jews. Outside a grocery store, for exmaple, a picture shows a small item, such as a loaf of bread. The other side has a short phrase detailing a racial ordinance that led to the Final Solution: Jews may only buy groceries from 4 to 5 in the afternoon. Other signs include: "Ban on Jewish musicians. 31.3.1945"; "Jews may no longer keep pets. 15.2.1942"; "Berlin public pools may no longer be entered by Jews. 3.12.138". The memorial was created by Renata Stih and Frider Schnock. Entitled "Places of Remembrance", it shows the thorough integration of the terror of machinery within everyday life in Germany from 1933 to 1945." (MRH Notebook 2011). As we were sent out through the neighbourhood to find as many of this signs as we could, we were able to incorporate a bit of personal learning, as well. We were asked to find these signs, and find a local to translate the German restriction/law on the other side, for us. This gave us a bit of a feel for how the German population feels about these memorials in their everyday life, as well as how they feel about their history. We found a very helpful, passionate man who took us on a short walk to explain these to us/show us more, and sympathized with our trip and the mission of the Canadian Centre for Diversity. However, another man, as many groups experienced, refused to help us (although he did speak English), and told us that it doesn't matter, "I don't care". Heartbreaking, indeed. I'm becoming very interested in this side of history - how do locals, ie: Germans, in this case, feel about memorials in their everyday life - whether as simple as a sign on a lamp post or as a big a magnitude as the Holocaust Memorial for Murdered Jews in Europe, as we saw yesterday.

Lunch at Baghdad Restaurant in Berlin. Traditional German
Schwarma as bunnies hopped around the picnic tables. Around
the table L-R is Allison, myself, Andrea, Cory, Chanie, Rachelle.

On our way to lunch / before leaving
Berlin, we drove by Checkpoint Charlie. 

I'll leave you today with two recent news articles, and another quote.

http://www.spiegel.de/international/europe/0,1518,765095,00.html

http://www.jewishtorontoonline.net/home.do?ch=content&cid=6723

"Capture the moment, hang on to every word, internalize the meaning, tell a friend, be a guardian of the past, revere our history. The Germans taught us all about the value of keeping records." - Solomon R. Kaplinski, "Requirements for a first-time visitor to Poland

Day 1 Journal: Berlin

16 May 2011: Berlin, Germany.

Myself, eating lunch along
the Spree River canal in
Berlin, Germany.

Today's walking tour of Berlin "paves the way" for the trip, or so they say. And this is so appreciated. My brain is overflowing with knowledge, some of which I'm already forgetting, as we visited a lot of historical sites and received a bit of context for WWII as well as Jewish life and antisemitism in Europe pre-war. This will, indeed, prepare us for the remainder of the trip as we visit some of the heavier sites, such as Auschwitz.

Yesterday's orientation has proven helpful already, and I can see it continuing as such throughout the week. Not knowing the other students we're traveling with 100%, but feeling a connection as we embark on the same journey; share the same fears, nerves and emotions, has allowed us to connect, and to read each other. Know when we need a hand or a hug, but knowing when to step back and allow a moment of peace, of solitude.

I really appreciated today's walking history class: our tour guide, Michael, is beyond intelligent, with stories to share. Any fact, number, name and he knows it, and will expand and tell you a story regarding it. He is truly amazing and I feel so honored to have been on a tour with him and benefit from his knowledge; share this experience with him. (For information on more tours by him and Routes Travel company, click here).

Holocaust Memorial at Gross-Hamburger-Strasse, in Berlin.
This Jewish cemetery, the oldest in Berlin, only has one
tombstone: that of Moses Mendelssohn.

Sitting on the plane last night (and not sleeping the whole flight, of course...zzz), I started to think. I'm sitting on a huge airplane and I am so privileged to be doing so. I can get up and walk around when my legs get stiff, when my neck gets sore, and for crying out loud - I'm on a plane to Europe for what is the most fantastic opportunity that has been offered to me, to date, if not, forever. And then I thought of the millions of Jews, prisoners of war, Poles, Roma, etc, etc that were packed in cattle cars for not only hours, but days on end. Why am I complaining about a little discomfort? They didn't have the option to sit down, to stretch their legs, to pull a blanket up over their legs. They no longer had the opportunity to walk the streets of their own towns, let alone others. And here, I pledge. Through my pain and suffering, my hard days, my long days: I will remember. I hope you will, too.

It was surreal to finally have arrived in Europe - after a long flight, and after years of aspiring to take a trip overseas. While this is no tourist trip and European brag-worthy trip, it was still exciting to be in a different part of the world. Not only one rich in history, but full of beauty. I wouldn't have changed this trip for the world - I am so thankful I was able to travel to Europe, but do so in a meaningful fashion. This was important to me and inspirational: my future trips will not only be for my own benefit, and probably relaxation time, but I hope to integrate education and historical purpose in them, as well.

At Brandenburg Gate, in Berlin. Erected in 1791, the Gate
used to symbolize the divide between East and West
Germany. Now, a popular tourist spot, it symbolizes unity
on the national level.

Our group gathering tonight, as well as several conversations throughout the day surrounded the topic of memorials, statues, and ways of commemorating the dead. This really interested me and I hope to do more work on this, perhaps throughout the remainder of my studies at university, but also on a personal level. I was amazed and impressed by the number of monuments in Berlin, as well as the many different types. Please see below for more on this, and photos.

The memorial for gay victims
was simply a concrete slab with
this video playing inside.
Beautiful.

This evening we had a ceremony, before dinner, on the homosexual victims of the Holocaust. We visited the memorial for these victims earlier today, a simple, but touching monument. Tonight's ceremony was also special, as it personally affected many people traveling on this trip, but affected everyone in a way, as well, as we all know someone with these lifestyles. This started to make things real for me, and continued to hit home throughout the trip. I thought of my friends who have been targeted for alternate lifestyles or beliefs, and thought how they would have vanished in this era of history. And what about myself? I have my own values, morals and beliefs...but I also am interested in those of others, and am supportive of all. What would that make me, in Hitler's eyes?

The ceremony was accompanied by the "choir" of the trip singing "True Colours" (Cyndi Lauper). This broke me down. The lyrics rang so true. And I just don't understand how the world can't be embraced for it's diversity and beauty as it is. The diversity, the different people, backgrounds, views...that's what makes it so beautiful. And I can't possibly begin to understand how someone can't agree with that, how someone can't accept that, embrace that, and respect, love, appreciate that.

Key Points of Interest / Other Places Visited Today:

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe: "The memorial, situated in the centre of Berlin, is a place for remembrance and commemoration of the murdered victims. Inaugurated in May 2005, it consists of a 19, 000 square meter (4.7 acre) site covered with 2,711 concrete slabs or "stelae", arranged in a grid pattern on a sloping field. The stelae are 2.38m long, 0.95m wide and vary in height from 0.2m to 4.8m. According to architect Peter Eisenman's project text, the stelae are designed to produce an uneasy, confusing atmosphere, and the whole sculpture aims to represent a supposedly ordered system that has lost touch with human reason. The Memorial is complemented by an underground Information Centre that focuses on the origins of the victims honoured here and aims to document the spread of this genocide across Europe." (MRH Notebook 2011). I found this memorial very hard to be at: the sheer scale of the memorial, and it's subliminal messaging: it's concrete, and always in mind. This monument, giving an individualistic look at things, is also in a prime real estate area of Berlin, and therefore, seen by many everyday on their commutes to/from work.

Bebel Platz: "On May 10, 1933, the square was the focal point for the "burning of the books" staged by the Nazis: the works of Heinrich and Thomas Mann, Erich Kastner, Stefan Zweig, Heinrich Heine, Karl Marx, Alfred Kerr, Kurt Tucholsky and countless other writers were thrown into the flames. Since 1995, this event has been commemorated by the monument designed by Micha Ullmann, which consists of an underground library with empty shelves and which can be seen through a transparent plastic window set into the ground." (MRH Notebook 2011).

Stolpersteine: The artist Gunter Demnig created the Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) - small, cobblestone-sized memorials for a single victim of Nazism. Each stone, embedded in the pavement in front of their former homes, has a small copper plaque embedded in the pavement that mentions the name, date of birth and place and date of death of the person who lived there. These memorials commemorate those deported and killed, mostly in Nazi concentration camps or extermination camps. To date Demnig has created over 17,000 stones. The list of cities that have stolpersteine now extends to several countries and hundreds of cities and towns. "A person is only forgotten once his name is forgotten," Demnig has said." (MRH Notebook 2011).


Further photos from our time in Germany will be posted on a Flickr page in the coming days. Stay tuned for the link.

"I commend these words to you. Engrave them on your hearts, when you are in your house, when you walk on your way, when you go to bed, when you rise." - Primo Levi, "Shema"

My pilgrimage: A privilege

The trip also gave us the opportunity to make life-long
friendships, and an instant connection. This is myself and
Dustin Hulton-Alcorn, and Allison Miceli at Friday's
Shabbat dinner in Warsaw.

I began this trip last Saturday, surrounded by 59 other eager Canadian students of all backgrounds and walks of life. Listening to the facilitators and educators speak of the upcoming week and journey we were about to embark on, and the lessons we had pledged to teach, I thought I knew how amazing the Canadian Centre for Diversity and the specific program the March of Remembrance and Hope are. I did not, and I still do not; will not, until I have had the opportunity to share my story, Pinchas and Faigie's stories, and see where this experience, my new knowledge will take me.

I do, however, know that being accepted to this program is a great honor, a privilege, as I was surrounded by "people who have a vision and will strive for it" (Paul Wittes, MRH 2011 Social Worker).

I struggled with the reasoning of me being on this trip throughout the journey; during the webinar and preparation period as well as while overseas. I listened intently to the stories of Faigie and Pinchas, as well as stories of the second and third generation survivors: Chanie, Rachelle and Sacha, as well as directors Carla and Jeffrey.

Fellow blogger Allison and I at the end of the tracks at
Aushcwitz II - Birkneau. The famous entrance is in the
distance. Visit Allison's page, here.

I don't have a family history that leads me back to this era in history, to these specific sites, but I am starting that now. My children, my friends, my family, and all I encounter will know I took this pilgrimage. They will be aware. Love, not hate. They will survive and persevere, as those before them have done, and as I am so passionate about now. I survived Auschwitz, but few can say that. I walked away. And I have stories to tell, pictures to show, and compassion in my heart.

And over the next week I will be sharing this with you - through my journal entries, my thoughts, my questions, and my overall experiences of the trip.

Keep checking back daily for new posts over the next week and a bit.

"Take heed ... lest you forget the things which your eyes have seen, and ... teach them to your children and to your children's children." - Deuteronomy 4:9

Je suis Canadienne

I'm back on Canadian soil! And oh so proud.

I'm looking forward to soft toilet paper, free washrooms, cereal, and not needing a million devices to simply plug in a hair straightener.

I've got a lengthy wait here at Pearson, now (7 hours - yuck!) but it's good to be home, despite missing my new formed family of MRHers. Actually: I plan on using puppy dog eyes to get an early flight home. Need. Mommy. And. Hugs.

I'll be typing my journal entries and re-blogging the whole trip this week and next: the tears, the confusion and questions, the details. Keep checking each night!

Peace, and love.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Pearson International Airport, Toronto.

Location:Toronto, Canada!!

Homeward Bound

It's 5am Polish time. An ungodly hour no matter what country you're in. My flight leaves Warsaw at 9am local time with a stopover in Dusseldorf and Toronto. I'm expected home after midnight tonight. A long day to say the least.

I'm looking forward to seeing you all again and thanking you all for your support and well wishes as I embark on this journey; not just for this week but a lifetime.

I'm still unsure how to verbally express the trip. I think that will come with sleep. And cereal. I really miss that stuff.

Peace, and love.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw, Poland.

Warsaw Nightlife and a tired Sunday

Last night after a session of reflection and discussion with all 60 students, opposed to the normal 2 groups, and prompting projects, leading ideas and trying to make a plan of action to take as soon as we're home, about 50 of us headed downtown, including our educators and program directors.

I will be working over the summer and next year with 9 or 10 other students, fellow blogger Allison included, on a photo exhibit. Our hope is to compile an exhibit of our photos and have them displayed with a bit of Holocaust education in each of our towns - which will stretch from New Brunswick to the west to Chicago.

The evening out was fun, albeit stressful and including another long walk, but we ended up splitting up and going our own way. The poor waiter at bar #1 was overwhelmed as we took up the whole bottom level of the bar, spoke another language, and wanted to request songs we were familiar with. Needless to say, his stress showed as he definitely didn't give us the respect and warm welcome I received earlier this week for being Canadian. Either way, a fun night of just good chats and laughs and delicious (but oh! so strong!) beer. The alarm clock came too soon this morning though.

This morning we visited a Jewish cemetery, which houses 200,000+ tombs. The cemetery survived the war as it was along the edge of the ghetto, and we even saw a sewage drain which was used to escape and smuggle Jews out of the ghetto.

A bus ride followed as we visited the town of Tykochin and their synagogue, now functioning as a museum on Jewish life in Poland during and pre WWII.

The synagogue, a beautiful old building with hymns and traditional artifacts around the room, is located next to the town square. Roughly the same size as the Boyce market in Fredericton, the square functioned as this prewar but was a temporary ghetto as the Jews were rounded up and walked to the forest, located about a 10min drive outside of the town. Their fate, you can guess.

The town of Tykochin is a beautiful traditional-looking town with many wooden homes, farms and wooden fences. And cows. Funny how one cow in a front yard tied to the tree like a dog can cheer me up like this; as Mayor Woodside said last week to me, it is important to focus on these giggles and laughs to not be overcome with emotion fully.

As we drove to this forest, the bus was silent as traditional Hasidic music softly, solemnly played. Walking into the forest, I felt such a weight on my shoulders, such a presence in the area and despite the sun and the heat, I shivered with goose bumps.

There are 3 grave sites, laden with Israeli flags and commemoration pieces - roses, Stars of David and traditional memorial rocks laid around the monuments. A testimony was read here which sent shivers down my spine, goosebumps everywhere. There is not a single survivor of this town of roughly 3000 Jews. All were lined up, shot, and fell into these mass graves. I am not only struggling to understand what it would be like to lose everyone, but to watch your family - whole community - be shot. I can't even begin to try. It hurts too much but never will enough.

Walking back to the bus, we overheard Pinchas (I think?) singing a Hebrew hymn which echoed through the woods, drowning out the birds, rolling smoothly through and around the trees. We stopped in silence with heads bowed. An eerie but beautiful feeling. And I knew I was doing the right thing. I will remember the sights, sounds, smells forever. And I will now always feel these emotions. I can never forget. And that empowers me. So you will never forget either.

We then visited Treblinka extermination camp. The buildings are no longer there but there is a beautiful monument of stones with country and town names of Jews that were brought to the camp. There were little to no survivors from this camp.

Tonight is the closing ceremony; time to say goodbye to good friends and beautiful people and hello to the future of change.

Peace, and love.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw/middle of I don't know where Poland.

Location:Warsaw and surrounding areas, Poland

European Lessons 3.0

1. Polish drivers are crazy.
2. Poland is flat. And there are cows. Everywhere. I want one.
3. Polish drivers are crazy.
4. Hallah is delicious. As is the Raddison hotel.
5. I would not want to be here in July. It's practically NB July right now.
6. Polish drivers are crazy. Did I mention that?
7. Cemeteries - Catholic and Jewish - are ridiculous and gorgeous like I've never seen before; each in a different way.
8. Popsicles and ice cream are delicious over here.
9. You really do have to buy amber in Poland.
10. Polish drivers are crazy.
11. Polish beer is crazy strong. And dirt cheap Canadian. This is a very bad combination.
12. A cold drink is hard to come by. Even the drinks in fridges at convenience stores are warm.
13. Polish drivers are crazy.
14. Make your wake-up call an hour (or half hour) earlier than you want. You'll still get it when you want.
15. The Polish variant of the crow is less annoying and quite pretty.
16. Polish drivers are crazy.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw, Poland.

Location:Warsaw, Poland

Wilting in Warsaw

Another boiling day in Europe, but we took today at a slower pace which was nice.

A 7:00 wakeup call which was such a treat (if nothing else, I'm prepared to wake for work once home again, now?) and then a delicious breakfast, in which I sat with Pinchas - what an honor.

Thankfully, our days alternate between intense emotional days and historical lessons and visiting monuments and sites. Today was one of those days, doubly needed after the exhausting heat on top of the emotional exhaustion.

Today we had an earlier start as Pinchas spoke to us about his experiences pre-war and what life was like. We also spent time reflecting in small groups and throwing around ideas and discussions.

This morning was a short walk of the area that was once the Warsaw ghetto, now beautiful, old, restored and rebuilt buildings and monuments. We even got to see a piece of the ghetto wall as well as hear Pinchas speak further, as he spent much time in this area.

Most of the afternoon was free time in the Old Town area of Warsaw: a gorgeous spot and the stereotypical European streetscape. Lunch, for me, involved a zapiekanka which was a baguette, mushrooms, melted cheese and ketchup. Delicious and massive. Once home next week, a photo will follow (taken by a lovely Polish gentlemen who spent some time in Canada and was excited to see the flag on my backpack).

I spent most of the afternoon on my own, taking a break from being squished between people and took a few good deep breaths as I enjoyed gelato and people watched.

I bought myself an amber and silver ring, as apparently that's the thing to get in Poland, and am in love with it. I also picked up a couple souvenir postcards and a mug of Old Town.

This area of town was gorgeous, and I even got my hand kissed by a tin man, watched a crazy knight duel and just took in the scenery. Another blog post will follow once I'm home regarding the cities, hotels etc themselves.

Finally, we visited Mila 18. Just now we're waiting for a guest speaker on the Righteous Amongst the Nations before dinner, another Sabbath ceremony and then a night out on the town. I can't promise I'll blog again tonight as Im several journals behind.

I can't believe tomorrow is our last day; it feels like it's been a month ... yet only a few short days.

Peace, and love.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw, Poland.

Location:Warsaw, Poland

Reflections

Yesterday really moved me.

I cannot describe the last monument we were at, located at Majdanek next to the crematorium. Words cannot describe it's size, importance or the emotional aspect it carries. Nor can pictures, although I will share these with you once I am home. A wave of shivers went over my body.

70 tonnes of ash. How could I not be moved? How could this not deeply, emotionally, spiritually affect someone?

How could I not feel such weight and sorrow as I lit a candle, thought of Philip Riteman and how it could have easily have been "him" there, in that pile? We know so many stories. We know so many names of those who perished. But I can't help but think of those we don't know. Those who don't have someone lighting a candle for them. And how they will never know that so many still do light candles for them. How could we not?

I just have so many questions and so much to think about - so much more I want to learn and hear about. So much that intrigues but hurts me. And there are so many stories I still yearn to learn.

But for now, I must let you learn. Through me. This tour - these sites - are something every human being should visit. There is one race. The human race. And we all share emotion and compassion, and I really hope to practice what I preach, to preach, to teach. As Pinchas said, "when the student is ready, the teacher will come".

That is the best I can do for reflection right now. I can't even understand the connections we, on MRH, have as we hug and hold hands to share strength, to warm hearts and feel each other's break. A few days at home in my pjs, soaking my aching feet will work wonders to reflect on my photos, my blogs, my journals and my tears. And more will come on this then.

Peace, and love.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw, Poland.

Location:Warsaw, Poland

Shabbat Dinner

We arrived in Warsaw! A beautiful town, the largest in Poland, and one more modern than I was expecting (we're all so emotionally drained that we drooled as we drove by a big store shopping area. Therapy, anyone?).

I, thankfully, slept the whole 3 hour bus ride from Lublin to Warsaw, albeit the last 20 minutes coming in to town - what beautiful farming suburbs!

I can't promise how much I'll be blogging the next few days -- Internet is giving me problems once again (last night I stood in the hallway in my pjs to post) and the outlet adapter I've been using has fried my iPod wall adapter. Annoying to say the least. That being said, you've all been so great to follow me and send me warm wishes so I'll try my best to keep blogging at least once a day. Keep checking in and checking my Facebook for other updates. It's crazy we're here on the home stretch...tomorrow we have some free time in Warsaw on our own and then tomorrow night we're hitting the town with the program directors and educators. It's been a whirlwind of a trip; I feel so privileged to be here, that there are so many other students that care so much to make a change and that there are so many that donate to make this program possible. It feels like we've been here a month.

As Allison mentioned in her blog on our Majdanek visit, we are two people with no direct relation, but we found comfort in each other today - we stood, hugging, crying, and the pain slowly healed - although never fully - knowing we had each other, we understood, we cared and we will change.

On another note, we are practically the same person and I'm so pleased that such great friendships are coming out of this program as well, as we share squished bus seats, pillows to nap on, and strong emotional connections. Not to mention hysterical laughing fits at dinner (I blame it on the heat).

This evening was our Shabbat dinner as tomorrow is the day of rest in the Jewish community.

The kosher dinner followed a beautiful ceremony of Yiddish prayer and song which we all joined in on, celebration of faith and life through poetic recitations and a bit of reflection by each participant to be shared at a later date. Tonights reflection really allowed me to think about this, but I've been reminding myself of Mike Fitz's "famous" quote alot this week: JUST LOVE IT.

Dinner was beautiful and delicious and although I ate too much Hallah I am feeling content tonight, prepared for another day tomorrow.

Thank you all for reading.

Peace, and love.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Warsaw, Poland.

Location:Warsaw, Poland

Never again 2.0

This will be posted later tonight, as we're currently in Old Town Lublin for lunch.

A beautiful town square bustling with life - locals and tourists alike. And, oh! The gelato! Delicious! A bit interesting to try and order and get along in different languages, but so wonderful that two people from other sides of the world and different languages can communicate and get along through facial expressions and hand gestures.

It really is a beautiful life, despite what we saw this morning at Majdanek.

I can't classify either camp - from today or Auschwitz - as harder than the other. I can, however, say that both were hard to visit.

Majdanek, which was surprisingly close to the city of Lublin (with houses literally on the other side of the fence), was intended to be larger than Birkneau, although this plan was not carried through.

The monument, a Soviet construct, towered over the site, similar to the one we saw at Plashov yesterday. Although not on the same scale as the Vimy Memorial, it's prominence over the surrounding area was a beautiful and powerful commemoration.

The camp site itself had several barracks open with exhibits. The first, I was not prepared for. A shower area and gas chambers, which was all too fresh as Pinchas had just told us his story and how his experiences at Majdanek and their effects on his life, even today.

Exhibits included the gas chamber viewing, an exhibit of 20,000 pairs of shoes and basic information and displays of belongings. The shoe exhibit was really hard to see. I took comfort, if that be the correct word, in standing at the back of the exhibit in the dark. Taking in the smell of the hot leather and trying to imagine the pile on the train station concrete - the train smells and sounds, the smell of the guns, the shots, and the shoes. Unbelievable. I enjoyed using my other senses in this; being able to touch the shoes. Who did they belong to? Where were they bought? Did they fit properly? Why did you wear those particular shoes?

Jeffrey, program director of the Canadian Centre for Diversity, said the trip will be successful if we come away with more questions. In my case, the trip has been very successful. And I always will have questions.

The hardest part of the trip thus far, however, I think, was going into the crematorium. It loomed over the Majdanek landscape so all "inmates" were aware of their fate, and I can only imagine having that weight on your shoulders and looming so close behind you.

After visiting the crematorium, the tears continued to flow. Visiting the largest monument I've ever seen which holds 70tonnes of victim's ashes in it's centre (which we could see) really made the Holocaust seem so real, become true to me.

Michael, our educator, said one body would make roughly 2 cups of ash. I can't imagine the number of bodies at this site, then, and that's not everyone. By a long shot.

I felt such a presence, such a powerful emotion inside me as we stood here and sang Jewish prayers, read testimonies by those who did not survive and wept together. Lighting candles in memory and holding hands and sharing hugs...I could never have imagined to feel this way. I still haven't eaten my lunch. I feel sick.

The Holocaust was sick.

The world is sick, but I have the cure: love.

Disclaimer: iPod adapter fried from outlet adapter. Will steal from others so I can keep blogging. I hope.

Peace, and love.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone, from Poland.

Location:Lublin/Majdanek, Poland