Well, I now understand why people kept saying to me, "You're really going by yourself?" Even the guide -- an older, very sensitive and extremely knowledgeable Polish woman -- asked me if I had come alone and checked in with me several times during the visit to make sure that I was okay. I had been warned that most people find one particular thing that just overwhelms them. For me it was the display of children's clothing and shoes. There were a pair of shoes that looked just like the first "walkers" that my Mom bought for Sarah. You know the kind -- the kind you have bronzed. It was impossible for me to look at that display and not feel for the pain and terror -- and abject helplessness in the face of such powerful evil -- that the parents of these children must have experienced.
Interestingly, in stark contrast to the evil that this place embodies, it seemed to elicit incredibly kind and thoughtful behavior from the visitors (at least those in my group). Example: When we got to Birkenau (the death camp part of Auschwitz) we began by climbing up to the top of the administrative building (maybe four flights of stairs). I was pretty whipped by then (in part, I'm sure, because I really hadn't eaten -- I know, I know, those of you who know how important it is for me to eat regularly will probably be saying, "What was she thinking?" But from the time I got up this morning I just couldn't seem to stomach even the idea of food. I finally had a big glass of milk before we left and a tangerine on the way, but that was pretty much it and it was now 4 in the afternoon). Anyhow, I quickly realized that I had almost the entire group behind me on the stairs and I was clearly slowing them down. We got to one of the landings and I said to the folks behind me, "Go ahead." They said, "No, no. It's fine. Take all the time you need." And this older German guy, with whom I had chatted briefly, said, "Can I give you a hand?" It kind of reminded me of how nice people were to each other right after 9-11. It was, I think, the result of all of us suffering from a kind of mass trauma all at the same time. Well, that is what happens on a visit to Auschwitz. Would that we could all treat each other with such tenderness all the time.
I truly believe that no amount of reading about or watching movies about this place can prepare you for the enormity (and I mean the physical size) of it or for the incredible depths of depravity to which people sunk here. Perhaps what is most disturbing is that these horrors were perpetrated not by one person (Hitler) or even by a select group (SS). No, most of the perpetrators were "regular" folks. As Hannah Arendt wrote in her book about the Eichmann trial (which is, IMHO, deservedly controversial for its seeming "compassion" for Eichmann among other things) what is so very striking is the "banality of evil." Auschwitz is just huge! We walked only a small part of it and we would come out of one block (that's how they refer to the buildings or barracks) and the guide would be directing us to another. I found myself thinking, repeatedly, "You've got to be kidding. There's more?!!" I am not going to bore you by recounting facts that you have probably heard many times before. I will, instead, share some of my reactions as well as a few new (at least to me) learnings that I had.
First, the decision about whether to take pictures or not. I actually took two or three at the very beginning, but I quickly stopped. It was making it feel like a sight-seeing trip and I was worrying about who walked into the picture, etc. For me, this was a pilgrimage. But there was, perhaps, an even more compelling reason that I decided not to continue taking pictures. In the first place, any picture that I could have taken has already been taken -- and taken by gifted photographers who could do a far better job of it than I could (even with my new camera!) and these photos are easily accessible. I don't need pictures in order to remember what I saw today. The images are etched into my brain. The only reason for taking pictures, I realized, would be to show them to others and I don't want to, in any way, contribute to the belief that one can really appreciate Auschwitz by looking at pictures of it. I believe now more than ever that in order to comprehend this place you must come here. One of my friends from URJ who knew about my trip said, "I think there are two pilgrimages that every Jew should make -- one to Auschwitz and one to Jerusalem." At great risk of sounding like I am preaching (forgive me if you are offended) I have to agree.
So one of the things that impressed me is the sheer size of this place. This is particularly true of Birkenau. Most of the barracks were destroyed by the Nazis just before the camp was liberated, but their remains are there and they stretch, literally, almost as far as the eye can see. Our guide told us that the plan was to erect 500 barracks to contain a projected100,000 inmates. They "only" had time to construct 350!! In addition to burning the barracks, the Nazis also blew up the remaining gas chambers and crematoria at Birkenau. [There is one remaining at Auschwitz I and walking into that chamber is like no other experience I have ever had!] It seems that the Nazis were trying to destroy any evidence of their crimes. This struck me as odd when you think of all the pictures and film that they took, ostensibly to document it! I guess when they did that they thought they would emerge victorious. Interestingly, one of the crematoria had actually been blown up by the sonderkommando (the prisoners, usually Jewish, who were assigned to remove the bodies from the gas chambers, strip them of any valuable "materials" -- gold teeth, hair, etc. -- and cremate them) about a year before liberation. It seems they made bombs using gunpowder that the women who worked in an armaments factory smuggled back to the camp under their fingernails!! Also, it seems that the pace of the killings beginning in 1944 was stepped up so much that they could not "accomodate" them quickly enough in the crematoria. So, they would make huge piles of bodies and incinerate them in the open.
Another piece of information that I found VERY interesting has to do with what people knew and when. When you approach Auschwitz you see many many homes right near the camp. I found myself saying what I have heard so many others say, "Come on! There is no way that the people living in these houses didn't know what was going on there!" Well, did you know that the Nazis established a 40 km perimeter around Auschwitz? They "moved" most of the people (some to concentration camps) and demolished almost all of the homes. The homes that you see there now are almost all post-war construction. [Why anyone would want to live near Auschwitz is an entirely different question!] The only homes that were preserved were those that were given to camp officials and their families to live in and the homes of some "critical" (from the Nazis' perspective) workers who lived in the area (e.g., coal miners).
There is so much more that I could write and, perhaps, I will as time goes on. Let me close with this. I now know how I will answer anyone who tries to engage me in a discussion about Israel's right to exist or to defend herself. I will ask, "Have you visited Auschwitz?" If the answer is, "No," which I suspect it will be since I can't imagine that anyone who has been here could question this right, I will reply, "Well, please do so and THEN we can talk!"
I am happy to say that tomorrow I leave for Israel. Will spend much of the day in Kazimierz before going to the airport. Right now, I think I had better turn in. I actually had not one, but TWO glasses of a terrific pinot blanc with dinner! Those of you who know how little I drink (Rabbi Katz teases me often about this) will appreciate the significance of that!
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