Monday, March 15, 2010
Some Favorites
I know the last post was a bit serious, as it should be. But Poland was a great trip. I had a lot of fun with my friends and discovered some new cities and sites definitely worth visiting again. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip. Enjoy!
Auschwitz
Most of you will have already seen the pictures, but I think they deserve an accompanying post. On Saturday, in the midst of our visit to Krakow, I had the opportunity to visit Auschwitz. Oddly enough, it was a place to which I have always wanted to go. I know that sounds strange, but I have always been fascinated by the holocaust and have read dozens of books over the years on the subject. I think my fascination stemmed from the fact that I could never quite understand how such a thing could have happened. I was moved by the stories of the survivors, but even more so by the stories of those who never had the chance to write their account. I remember scanning the faces in pictures and wondering "what were they thinking" as they were marched off to the gas chambers. I also remember wondering why didn't more of them survive? Why didn't they fight harder for their lives? Why didn't someone do something to end what was clearly insanity? Auschwitz answered these questions for me, but in a way I hope never to experience again.
It is an impressive place, actually. The organization of the whole operation is astounding. Each building, each guard post, each brick had its own sinister function that contributed to the greater operation that can only be described as a bureaucracy of extermination. The Nazi's business was death and they were good at it. I am not sure that at any other point in history any group has devoted so much time and energy to extinguishing life and certainly no one did it as efficiently as the Nazis. It is simultaneously sickening and fascinating to wander the blocks of Auschwitz. Even as a shell of its former self, containing only remnants of the pain and horror it once represented, Auschwitz is a horrible place. It is also a very quiet place. It's as if history itself is ashamed of what happened there. I was ashamed. Earlier I stated that Auschwitz had answered some of the questions my history books never could. I said that I used to wonder why more people didn't try harder to survive. I used to try and imagine what I would have done had I ever been sent to a concentration camp. I imagined myself a survivor, being resourceful, resilient, strong. Now I know that I would not have survived. Not only that, but at a certain point during my visit, I realized that I would not have wanted to. It is a hopeless place. That is the best way to describe it. It not only extinguished the lives of over one million people, it extinguished their hope. Pictures line the walls of several hallways in Auschwitz I, denoting a prisoner and listing their date of entrance and date of death. The average survival time was about three months. Three months was all it took. And I am certain despair overcame many long before death brought relief.
It was -12 degrees celsius (10 degrees fahrenheit) the day we visited. I was dressed warmly, with a coat, hat, leggings under my jeans, and two pairs of gloves for my hands. One hour outside was enough to numb my hands and feet and chill me to the bone. One hour outside was enough to convince me that, had I been a prisoner, I would have welcomed death in a matter of weeks, not months.
There were many terrible things to see at Auschwitz, but a few stand out. First there were the gallows. Such a simple structure. Next there was the prison block where disobedient prisoners were either locked in starvation cells until they died (their carvings can still be seen on the walls), forced to stand overnight in dark, crowded 'standing cells' or suffocated to death in the 'dark cell' where thirty or so people would be packed with no access to fresh air. Then there was the execution wall - a brick wall outside of the prison block where prisoners were shot daily for manufactured crimes. Finally and most frightening of them all was the gas chamber. A large grassy hill with a chimney is all that one sees from the outside. But the inside is a place of terror. I stood in a room that saw the deaths of thousands of people. I walked in as they would have, the only difference being that I was able to walk out again. I saw the holes where the zyklon-B pellets were dropped into the room. It took twenty minutes to suffocate 700 people. Directly across from the gas chamber in an adjacent room is the crematorium housing 5 furnaces. It took 24 hours to burn 300 bodies. You can do the math.
Auschwitz is a powerful place. There is nothing happy about it, nothing hopeful. Not even the thought of its liberation can bring any comfort. I wonder at the resilience of the survivors. No one should have been able to walk out of Auschwitz.
Not only is it terrible, but it is important. Because it could happen again. We cannot be so naive to think that we are protected from such tragedies by democracies and "modern society." Mankind has always been and will always be capable of committing atrocities like the holocaust. That is why the drafty barracks still cover nearly 400 acres of Polish landscape. We cannot be allowed to forget what we are capable of. We cannot allow this to happen again.
It is an impressive place, actually. The organization of the whole operation is astounding. Each building, each guard post, each brick had its own sinister function that contributed to the greater operation that can only be described as a bureaucracy of extermination. The Nazi's business was death and they were good at it. I am not sure that at any other point in history any group has devoted so much time and energy to extinguishing life and certainly no one did it as efficiently as the Nazis. It is simultaneously sickening and fascinating to wander the blocks of Auschwitz. Even as a shell of its former self, containing only remnants of the pain and horror it once represented, Auschwitz is a horrible place. It is also a very quiet place. It's as if history itself is ashamed of what happened there. I was ashamed. Earlier I stated that Auschwitz had answered some of the questions my history books never could. I said that I used to wonder why more people didn't try harder to survive. I used to try and imagine what I would have done had I ever been sent to a concentration camp. I imagined myself a survivor, being resourceful, resilient, strong. Now I know that I would not have survived. Not only that, but at a certain point during my visit, I realized that I would not have wanted to. It is a hopeless place. That is the best way to describe it. It not only extinguished the lives of over one million people, it extinguished their hope. Pictures line the walls of several hallways in Auschwitz I, denoting a prisoner and listing their date of entrance and date of death. The average survival time was about three months. Three months was all it took. And I am certain despair overcame many long before death brought relief.
It was -12 degrees celsius (10 degrees fahrenheit) the day we visited. I was dressed warmly, with a coat, hat, leggings under my jeans, and two pairs of gloves for my hands. One hour outside was enough to numb my hands and feet and chill me to the bone. One hour outside was enough to convince me that, had I been a prisoner, I would have welcomed death in a matter of weeks, not months.
There were many terrible things to see at Auschwitz, but a few stand out. First there were the gallows. Such a simple structure. Next there was the prison block where disobedient prisoners were either locked in starvation cells until they died (their carvings can still be seen on the walls), forced to stand overnight in dark, crowded 'standing cells' or suffocated to death in the 'dark cell' where thirty or so people would be packed with no access to fresh air. Then there was the execution wall - a brick wall outside of the prison block where prisoners were shot daily for manufactured crimes. Finally and most frightening of them all was the gas chamber. A large grassy hill with a chimney is all that one sees from the outside. But the inside is a place of terror. I stood in a room that saw the deaths of thousands of people. I walked in as they would have, the only difference being that I was able to walk out again. I saw the holes where the zyklon-B pellets were dropped into the room. It took twenty minutes to suffocate 700 people. Directly across from the gas chamber in an adjacent room is the crematorium housing 5 furnaces. It took 24 hours to burn 300 bodies. You can do the math.
Auschwitz is a powerful place. There is nothing happy about it, nothing hopeful. Not even the thought of its liberation can bring any comfort. I wonder at the resilience of the survivors. No one should have been able to walk out of Auschwitz.
Not only is it terrible, but it is important. Because it could happen again. We cannot be so naive to think that we are protected from such tragedies by democracies and "modern society." Mankind has always been and will always be capable of committing atrocities like the holocaust. That is why the drafty barracks still cover nearly 400 acres of Polish landscape. We cannot be allowed to forget what we are capable of. We cannot allow this to happen again.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Weekend Away
The weekend of the 8th, a group of about 60 of us traveled to Krakow on what can be described as my worst experience on a train, ever. There were no seats left when we boarded, so 30 of us were crowded into the freezing corridors to stand for the three and a half hour journey. This would not have been too bad; however, my patience wore thin as those around me began to consume copious amounts of alcohol while attempting to break the Guiness Book of World Records record for the longest consecutive drunk karaoke session aboard a train. Mind you, drunk karaoke actually has the advantage of supplying those singing with the words to the song. No such luxury was provided my ears during this trip. Needless to say, I was thankful when we arrived and I could finally hear the music playing at top volume in my iPod. It was a short bitterly cold walk to the hostel, but once we were checked in, things were looking up. That is, until I tripped over a suitcase and fell flat on my face in the middle of the entire group. Awesome night. Awesome.
But I was laughing by the end of it. Our hostel was amazing! It was located right on the main square, across from St. Mary's Basilica. Snow was falling on the city and it was beautiful. Several of us went out for a night of dancing and kebabs. It certainly made up for the train ride there.
Now for the real reason I was excited to be in Krakow. For those of you who attended Our Redeemer with me for grade-school, you will remember that sometime around fifth grade we read a book called "The Trumpeter of Krakow." I remember liking the book at first, but then being sincerely disappointed by the ending. But for some reason, I have always remembered that book and the little trumpeter boy who saved Krakow and the Sorcerer's Stone from the evil alchemist. Imagine my surprise when at midnight on that first night, I heard a trumpet begin to play from one of St. Mary's towers. The melody of the song ended without really ending, just like in the story. I cannot actually explain to you what I felt standing in the Krakow Market Square at that very moment. It was one of those moments where your past catches up with the present and for a split second you remember that person you used to be - that little girl who had no idea that she would one day hear the Trumpeter of Krakow play from the windows of a real tower. It is moments such as these that I cherish in my travels. When the past catches up to the present and makes the world that much more real.
Peace, Love, and Waffles.
Back in Bruges
Sorry for the brief blogging hiatus, guys. Our week-long simulation game kind of took over my life for a while. But now I am back in Bruges and blogging some more. Rather than a long boring recap of the past two weeks, I will share some highlights and, as usual, some musings.
Despite what I may have reported shortly after arriving, Poland turned out to be extremely fun. Warsaw is an amazingly vibrant city. Both the old and new parts of the city have a lot to offer. One of the things I love most about exploring new cities are the surprises that you can stumble upon completely unexpectedly. This happened a few times on this trip. I especially love walking into Europe's churches and cathedrals. Gothic, Roman, medieval, renaissance, it doesn't much matter, because you never know exactly what you will find behind those heavy wooden doors. I love the silence, the echoing footsteps, and the horridly ornate altars. "Awe" is usually the word that describes the look on my face, no matter how many of these churches I have seen over the years. The fact that at one point in our history, mankind spent decades building these ornate houses of Christian worship is astounding. And yet, I always leave just a little saddened by the fact that most have been reduced to tourist attractions like the ruins of their pagan predecessors. Still, for me, there is something magical about staring up at a stained glass rose window above a baroque marble altar. The first Sunday we went into Warsaw, a few of us walked into a random church on our way to the city center. It just so happened that it was the Church of the Holy Cross, a 17th century baroque wonder that now houses Chopin's heart. We were lucky enough to catch an amazing chorale concert there by accident.
So my tourist tip of the day is: It is always worth walking inside. This tip applies to more than just churches. You should always explore the smallest alleys, the tiniest shops, and the hidden cafés. You never know when you'll hear an amazing concert, find a budding artist, or sample the perfect bowl of broccoli soup.
Despite what I may have reported shortly after arriving, Poland turned out to be extremely fun. Warsaw is an amazingly vibrant city. Both the old and new parts of the city have a lot to offer. One of the things I love most about exploring new cities are the surprises that you can stumble upon completely unexpectedly. This happened a few times on this trip. I especially love walking into Europe's churches and cathedrals. Gothic, Roman, medieval, renaissance, it doesn't much matter, because you never know exactly what you will find behind those heavy wooden doors. I love the silence, the echoing footsteps, and the horridly ornate altars. "Awe" is usually the word that describes the look on my face, no matter how many of these churches I have seen over the years. The fact that at one point in our history, mankind spent decades building these ornate houses of Christian worship is astounding. And yet, I always leave just a little saddened by the fact that most have been reduced to tourist attractions like the ruins of their pagan predecessors. Still, for me, there is something magical about staring up at a stained glass rose window above a baroque marble altar. The first Sunday we went into Warsaw, a few of us walked into a random church on our way to the city center. It just so happened that it was the Church of the Holy Cross, a 17th century baroque wonder that now houses Chopin's heart. We were lucky enough to catch an amazing chorale concert there by accident.
So my tourist tip of the day is: It is always worth walking inside. This tip applies to more than just churches. You should always explore the smallest alleys, the tiniest shops, and the hidden cafés. You never know when you'll hear an amazing concert, find a budding artist, or sample the perfect bowl of broccoli soup.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Song of the Week: 15
On a lighter note than the previous post, here is the song of the week. It's a day late thanks to a wonderful weekend in Krakow and a moving experience at Auschwitz (more on these two things later). But for now, I am just going to introduce the song of the week. This is an older one. Well, when I say older, I mean older than the last two years. It really takes me back to high school. Anyway, I just heard it the other day and remembered the artist and how much I used to like him. This particular song is a new favorite. The melody is smooth and the lyrics are truthful and simply elegant and his voice, well, I'm going to steal a line here and say *swoon*. So please listen to David Gray's "The Other Side," I promise you'll like it. Hope everyone had a great weekend. Look for more posts soon!
Peace, Love, and Waffles.
Peace, Love, and Waffles.
No Pretty Pictures
Entrance to Auschwitz II Birkeau Coumpound
Panorama of the "Kitchens"
View of some barracks in Auschwitz II (originally stables)
Friday, March 5, 2010
Not So Bad After All
So Warsaw has proven itself a fun, dynamic, delightful city. This weekend we head to Krakow for a quick getaway before the intense negotiation game starts on Monday (I am a Spanish official). I will also be visiting Auschwitz this weekend, a place I have always wanted to see. Classes this week have been nothing short of painful so I am looking forward to a bit more fun over the weekend and with the simulation game next week. Look for a couple more posts coming up this week. I will do my best to keep up, but I will be rather busy as Spain has the EU Presidency at the moment.
Have a great weekend everyone!
Peace, Love, and Waffles.
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