Birkenau

The endless roads of the Polish countryside led us back to the town of Oswiecim this morning. We arrived at Auschwitz and entered through the gates of Birkenau, our eyes heavy with the burden of yesterday's beautiful and terrible knowledge, switfly and sadly studied the barracks behind the barbed wire of intolerance. Some were empty and some were no longer standing. Others contained remnants of their former functions; triple-stacked children's beds and holes in stone once used as toilets. Several of the delegates remarked on their odd state of mind, on how it was so peculiar standing in the middle of a vast camp of death and seeing butterflies, wildflowers, and the sun in its quiet benign blue sky, shining hot upon our brows and backs, contrasted with the cool green grass beneath our feet. There was a contageous sadness that stirred among us. Our guide, Sebastian, began talking about irony; about how soap dishes were installed in the camp sinks while the prisoners were never given soap; about how one man survived in Birkenau for over a year and a half while upon his transfer to another camp, he perished over complications from a broken leg. After lending our ears to more survivors' stories and walking to and from the memorial site, we lunched and then attended a lecture given by a Polish historian. He said he wished us to see Auschwitz as a mirror; to see the humanity of the tragedy within its brick walls. "This crime was committed by people - by human beings," he said. Ninety-five percent of the six million people the country of Poland lost to the Holocaust were civilians. It was possibly only until that moment that some of us realized the depth of what took place where we stood over sixty years ago. "The floor we are walking on is filled with human suffering." It was more truth than we could ever hope to hold in our naive hands, let alone comprehend.

The day closed on a much lighter note. We watched and performed traditional Polish dances. It was a good way to end the day: happy to be with friends, amongst the beauty of Krakow and and grateful to be so free and alive.

-By Taylor Riley