#Eurafrica2013 || I'm glad it rained.

The Auschwitz Concentration Camp has been on my bucket list since I took a Holocaust class in tenth grade. I've always had a special interest in this historical time period.

When we arrived at the front gates of Auschwitz II-Birkenau, the skies were gray and gloomy. It was fitting.




We saw the burial grounds for the dead.

We saw the train that brought the prisoner's into the camp. And the rocks that were placed in memory of those who suffered and died here.

We saw the barbed wire fences that caged the innocent from the life they once knew and loved.

We saw the barracks where the prisoner's slept.

We saw buildings where pregnant women and their children were murdered.

We saw ruins from the gas chambers that killed thousands of innocent people. We saw the site where medical experiments were performed on children, especially twins. I couldn't help but think of my triplet nieces and nephew. I wanted to cry, but I was in so much shock and horror that I just stood in silence. A few minutes later, rain poured down from the dark grey clouds. I think the sky was crying for me.



After wandering around the camp, I felt quiet, solemn and regretful. The trials in my life are nothing compared to the torture these people went through. I couldn't help but reflect upon how selfish I am, how much I take for granted on a daily basis... my problems seemed so insignificant.

After the camp, we walked around the Auschwitz I Museum, where they had buildings with different exhibits.



We saw gruesome photos and read horrific stories. Some photos showed men and women being hanged, shot, and axed... bodies piled high in ditches, skeleton babies that didn't even look human anymore because they were so emaciated. One photo showed a group of Nazi soldiers smiling as they prepared to ax a man in the head. Another showed a gun being pointed at a mother, clinging to her baby trying to flee. It was truly horrific. I had seen and heard things like this before, but it felt so much different being there and experiencing it. I wanted to say something, anything. But no words came. All I could do was stare in silence.

We saw a large model that depicted the process of prisoner's arriving to camp in the trains, then forced to remove their clothing, then led into gas chambers where they were murdered, and then their bodies were dumped in the incinerator.

Then we entered the rooms full of "things." This is when everything became real.

We saw glass cases full of the prisoner's shoes. All I could think of is the thousands of people who walked in those shoes... normal, innocent people who walked to the store, to school, to church... people who did nothing to deserve this.

We saw glass cases full of women's hair... it was used to make nets. This is when I got sick. I was physically nauseous, but we continued on.

There were glass cases full of suitcases with names printed on the sides.

There were piles of pots, pans, vases and spectacles.

I almost lost it when I saw a case full of baby clothes and tiny little shoes. My mind just couldn't process the evil that was brainwashed into an entire country. They were people. They were children. They were newborn babies. 

We saw a dungeon room where grown men were forced to stand for days and nights at a time. It was so small, they had to crawl through a black hole to get into the room. It was not big enough to sit, or lay, or even move, because four of them were squeezed into such a small space. There was no light or air, and many suffocated or starved. You may wonder why people would suffer through this torture, why they wouldn't just attempt to escape or die trying. But many of these prisoners weren't even Jewish and their families were still at home. They were told if they attempted to escape, the Nazis would torture and kill their wives and children. Escaping wasn't really an option.

We saw the execution wall, where men, women and children stood, naked. They were lined-up and murdered in broad daylight for all to see. Now flowers line the wall.

At this point, it was all too much. The images, the stories, the "things", the torture...  I just couldn't take it anymore. We didn't make it through all of the exhibits. As a group, we decided we had seen enough. I'm not sure I've ever felt that way before... a speechless, nauseous depression is the best way I can describe it.

The capacity for evil in a human being is so terrifying. I guess the only thing that makes me feel any better is knowing that all the evil acts committed will be judged by God, and the perpetrators will suffer the consequences in the next life. The innocent victims who were tortured and killed have been taken to a better place, where they are safe and loved. All will be justified and made right in the end. I'm so grateful for this knowledge and belief, because I would feel so lost and helpless without it.