Krakow, Poland
Boarding the train headed for Krakow, Joy dragged as much of
my stuff as she could, as well as, her own backpack. Climbing the
steps onto the train, we realized this would be a much different
ride. The train was packed, literally, with people. We attempted to
walk anywhere to find a place to sit. With our luggage against
the wall of the small walkway, we stood, as much out of the way
that we could. I am very claustrophobic, so this was no easy task
for me to withstand.
It wasn't long before we met a young woman returning to the
University in Krakow who spoke English. She proceeded to tell
us that the train was full of students doing the same as she was:
returning to school. The next hour was spent listening to her tell
of how the youth of Poland had aspirations of the future and
capitalism, while her parents wanted to return to Communism,
just so they could have some security with any income, regardless
of how meager it might be. Incentive and vision of opportunity
for a better quality of life, was not the issue for her parent’s
generation. It was security and the familiar. Saddened by what
she said was only heightened for me after having stood in Red
Square just ten years earlier, right after Perestroika. I saw no life
in the eyes of the Russian people, having lived under a
Communist regime for over seventy years at that time.
Recognition of that same look was reflected in the faces I had
already seen in The Czech Republic a day earlier. Now, I began
to pay attention to those around me. Many had that same blank
glare in their eyes. She made the trip bearable, intriguing, and
unforgettable.
Arriving at the train station in Krakow, we now were on a
mission to find our hotel. Within walking distance, Joy and I
headed down the main street in Krakow. Such different
architecture, beautiful, old, inspiring. I photographed the images
in my mind where they remain to this day. After settling into our
modest room, we set out to find sustenance. Asking the front desk
clerk about where we might find something to eat, he offered
several suggestions. Joy and I found ourselves sitting in a
restaurant on the square in Krakow, Poland, eating pizza. That
was a bit of comic relief, in what otherwise, had been a day filled
with drama.
Waking early enough to have toast and tea, we set out to our
ultimate destination, the infamous death camp known as
Auschwitz. It was a beautiful fall day. The sky was as blue as I
have ever seen. As we came to entrance of the camp, that moment
was as surreal as any I have experienced. Bright yellow leaves
were strewn in our path, as though inviting us to a place of
beauty. The reality of what we were about to take in was quite a
contrast to this invitation. Walking under the brick arch, the first
thing I noticed was the gallows, where people, countless people,
had hung. A shudder ran through me and it would not be the
last, but the first of many. The gentle breeze caused the yellow
leaves to flutter like butterflies, as we passed the housing for the
many Jews brought to the camp, a few for work and many for
death.
Our guide began to enter one structure at a time which had
housed the many people who were victims of the Holocaust,
carried out by Third Reich, or Hitler's ultimate plan for a "pure
race." As we entered one, and then another, of the quarters,
reverence is the only word I can use to describe those who
entered along with Joy and me. Each unit was a sublime, yet a
gruesome reminder, of just what had taken place during the
Reich's rule. The best description I can offer is that one half of
the 30 x 50 foot area of the single room, was covered with some
kind of acrylic that went from the floor to the ceiling at a 45*
angle. Behind the clear acrylic, was filled with articles taken
from those thousands, millions, who had once lived lives of
beauty and freedom. In silence, we stood viewing millions of
shoes in one building. In silence, we stood viewing millions of
locks of hair in another building. In silence, we stood viewing
millions of watches, in yet another building. In silence we stood
viewing millions of... and so it went. In silence, tears streamed
down my cheeks. One of the most sobering experiences of my
life.
After exiting the last of the units, we headed for the berm, which
housed the gas chamber and the ovens. Covered with green grass
and daisies, once again, the surrealistic picture was quickly
interrupted as we abruptly entered the gas chamber, where
millions had been gassed. Again, silence was the only sound.
Reverence and homage was the only palpable sense among those
who had ventured into the Chamber. Standing for a few, or many
minutes, we then proceeded into where the ovens were located.
Chills run down my spine as I recall the brick that had burned
those precious bodies of many. There are no words in the
English language to describe what I saw, and how I felt. Horror
is the single word that comes to mind. The extermination camp
known as Auschwitz, had revealed itself to this one person, with a
lasting impression of what bigotry, hatred, scorn and loathing is
capable of producing. Death. Tortuous death, after having their
last days lived under a tortuous regime.
As if that scene was not enough, we boarded the bus that took us
to Birkenau. Stark in contrast to the brilliance of the yellowleafed
path that lead us into the camp at Auschwitz, the guard
tower, built to represent the one that stood in the same position at
the time of the heinous rule of the Third Reich, symbolized power
and control. Walking under a simple wooden beam, the most
striking image forever embedded in my mind was the shear
vastness of landmass that was, the death camp of Birkenau.
Historically, the Germans, learning that the Russians were
quickly making their way towards the camp, began to burn what
they could of the evidence of their crimes. Unable to finish their
attempt to cover what had taken place, in a place and space in
time, reserved only for the torture and murder of millions of
Jews, the Russians proceeded to burn what was remaining of
Birkenau.
The only structure on the hundreds of acres of land known as
Birkenau, was a replica of what the housing had been for the
prisoners. Stark, cold, devoid of color, is the image I recall as I
entered the unit. Unlike Auschwitz, these units were very large,
capable of housing hundreds of people at a time. I would not be
so pretentious to act as any kind of historian, but I know enough
in regard as to the conditions the prisoners "lived" in day to day.
Filth, disease, and hunger were but a few of the adjectives I've
read that describe what that building represented.
Lastly, before boarding the bus back to Krakow, we stood in the
guard tower, looking over the immensity and emptiness that, had
once, been a bigger version of what we had seen at Auschwitz.
"They" say the skies were always raining soot from the ovens
that burned every hour of every day for years. Heaviness and
weight were what I felt, inside, and an oppressiveness was
lingering in the fall air on the outside. The memory has had as
much impact on me as any memory of a moment in my life.
Sobering the thought of the depravity of man at its worst.
Leaving was a relief. The next day, we boarded the train that
would traverse from Poland, The Czech Republic, Austria and
back to Switzerland. Joy returned to the safety net of
L'Abri, filled with her young, but astute, observations made of
our journey across four countries, each filled with their own
unique flavor and memories. As I drove away, she waved from
her tiny chalet. I knew she had grown as a woman, making this
mother proud for what she was doing at such a young age:
Searching for Truth.
The drive around Lake Lucerne, seemed much more beautiful
this time. I felt lighter and heavier at the same time, full of the
knowledge of good and evil, the very thing God attempted to
shield us from in the Garden of Eden. Enriched with the
experience of the journey and the destination, had been a small
chapter in what I now know as my life.
sarah beaugez_krakow, poland_(c)2013
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