I ate my weight in Pierogis

Let me just start this off by saying I really enjoyed Poland. I love all travel and getting to experience new cultures and places, but I love it even more when travel makes me reflect and really sticks with me, and Poland did that. That being said, this is not going to be my most uplifting blog post, so if you do not want to hear about my experiences at Auschwitz-Birkenau, might be best to read the first few paragraphs and then stop at the stars*****.

Krakow is also absolutely beautiful and the food was incredible. As the title suggests, I really indulged in pierogis, Polish dumplings, while I was there. My dinner the first night had pierogi filled with duck marinated in some spices with this perfectly spicy sweet chilly sauce and they were to die for. Those were probably my favorite of the trip. I also tried some Polish wines which were really delicious and made friends with two British women who were seated at the table next to me during dinner. They were having a blast enjoying the many vodkas available and told me that they owned homes all over the world and traveled together while their husbands did business. Truly the ideal lifestyle if I do say so myself. These women were my idols honestly. I actually met a ton of Brits on my trip; I had no idea Poland was such a target vacation destination for the UK.

My AirBnB where I stayed was in a great location, just outside of Old Town. I could walk pretty much anywhere and there was also a tram stop on the corner for longer destinations. My first stop upon arriving was to go to Schindler’s Factory and do the museum tour there. This is an amazing museum; truly incredibly well done and interactive. I was impressed at how big it was as well. I also really liked that it gave an entire history of WWII in Poland, not just Schindler and his factory, although that was covered as well. As a German studies major in college and an American by birth, those are the two perspectives I am most familiar with when it comes to that period in history, so it was a great learning opportunity to get another European perspective.

I also visited an archeology museum underneath Krakow’s Old Town, which was fascinating. Seeing how much the city has changed and learning that Krakow was literally built on gravesites was spooky and unique. The Wawel palace was beautiful as well and I loved seeing the porcelain collection as well. Polish pottery is a favorite of my mom’s, so I clearly took after her. I finished my trip off with a vodka flight at a famous bar in Krakow. I tried 6 flavors: Cherry, Lemon, Black Currant, Mango, Pear, and Coconut. They were all good, but my favorite was the coconut. It was very creamy and delicious.

*****

One day of my time in Krakow was spent visiting Auschwitz. I hopped on a bus early in the morning over to the extermination camp and took a guided tour of both Auschwitz and Birkenau. This was truly one of the most sobering experiences of my life, and I am going to go into my thoughts and experiences in just a moment, but I would also like to beg a little grace for myself. Everything I’m going to say is just me trying to grapple with everything I have learned about WWII and what led up to it, and everything I saw and experienced while at the concentration camp. I will likely not say everything perfectly or have the best thoughts about everything I saw, so I apologize in advance if anything I say hurts anyone. That is genuinely not my intention. I’m just a young human trying to grapple with all of the sides of humanity, especially the horrific sides, and trying to reconcile that with my love for humanity and the beauty of Germany. So without further ado, my Auschwitz-Birkenau reflections:

I think the hardest part for me was coming to terms with how disappointing the concept of hope can be. Hope is this amazing, powerful thing that we hold onto with the tightest of grips. It keeps us going through incredible hardship and it drives our will to survive. But unrealized hope, hope that was left behind or destroyed, is so devestating, even as an onlooker. I saw this hope throughout numerous exhibits at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I saw this hope in the confiscated dancing shoes female inmates brought along because they were told they were just going to a labor camp, and maybe, just maybe, they’d have some free time to dance with their sweetheart after a long day’s work. I saw this hope in the names handwritten on suitcases left behind after individuals were told to pack up their belongings for who knows how long. Their entire possessions in one bag, so valuable and important to them that they wrote their names across the front to ensure they could find their things again, not knowing they wouldn’t live to do so. I saw the hope in photos of mothers hugging their children, grateful to not be separated, going unknowingly to their deaths. Even just writing this now is making me tear up because that failed hope feels like some type of cruelty too harsh for any man to have to withstand. I’m really struggling wtih reconciling this great force that keeps us going with the twisted remains of what hope became in that place, especially for the survivors. How does one continue to believe in goodness after going through something like that? I don’t know. I have seen plenty of horrors in my own job, but I’ve still held on to the light by practicing gratitude and looking for the selflessness I know humans can display, but I also know that in the worst of conditions, humans are inherently pragmatic, and many more are inherently cruel.

Everyone knows about the shoes at Auschwitz. And it is heartbreaking, truly. Especially the shoes that are no bigger than my palm, indicating the loss of a sweet, innocent child who was never given a fair chance at life. The shoes are horrifying and I am not discounting that, but what really stuck with me is the hair. When the prisoners arrived at the camp, their heads were shaved. This is a relatively well-known fact, but what I did not know, was that the hair that was collected was woven into thread and cloth to be used when textile material was difficult to find or produce towards the end of the war. Hair, while having an actual purpose, is also very much a form of expression and self-identity. As someone who changes her hair frequently, I know the power of a new hair cut or style. I have never considered myself particularly attached to my hair because I change it so frequently, but this experience gave me a new perspective on how much of ourselves is contained in and displayed through our hair. Not only were all of these people stripped of their dignity when their heads were forcibly shaved, stripping them of their personal form of self-expression, but their dignity was continuously trampled after their deaths as well. The idea that someone would take something so personal to you, literally grown out of your body, and use it for cheap materials after you are gone honestly makes me so angry. I honestly haven’t finished processing this because I’m struggling with my concept of souls and bodies and how they interact, and I’m also struggling with how I feel about the people who maybe were not extremists, but knew these things were happening and did nothing. Silence in the face of injustice is so difficult for me. I understand that people’s instinct is to protect themselves and their loved ones, no matter the cost, but I also wish we could all be more selfless in the face of horrors like this. That being said, I probably would do anything in my power to protect my own family if it came down to it, so I am no better than those passive participants. I think I too have the capability to destroy my soul to protect them, and I would have to live with the consequences of that choice every day. So yeah, I don’t have perfect thoughts yet, but the hair was trully horrible to see.

Time is also a fascinating concept in regards to my trip to Auschwitz. The historic photos show grueling, terrible experiences, but as time has passed, Auschwitz-Birkenau has regained some beauty. I was amazed at how peaceful the scenery seemed for a place of such tragedy. Gorgeous, giant trees, green fields, and wildflowers blowing in the breeze decorated the camp. If you did not know what had occurred, you could easily be taken in by the Polish country side. I think this is a beautiful-if not a bit on the nose-analogy for the healing power of time, but also the importance of learning from our history. If we did not study and learn of humanity’s mistakes, it would be so easy for nature to overgrow the horrors that persisted and lull everyone into the ignorance of forgetfulness. Even today, we see the persecution of Jewish people around the globe, and the horrors occuring against Palestinians. Hatred based on prejudice and division is still rampant in the world, so we clearly still have some learning to do. I think travel is so important because it forces you to see that at the end of the day, we are all the same. We all want love and peace and happiness. And most of all, we want safety. If people took even a fraction of our time looking for similarities amongst one another andapproaching people with empathy and compassion, we would have so much less hate and atrocity in this world.

I have many more thoughts, some of which I am still parsing through in my own head, but those were my main takeaways from my visit to Auschwitz. I love Germany, and I am so blessed to live here and get the opporunity to explore and travel. I also love the German people and admire how far many of them have come. I also admire the strict adherence to this growth. Extremism is not well tolerated in Germany. Of course there are still people who are trying to sow hate and fear, but most of the country is adament about learning from their past and doing everything in their power to prevent another tragedy from occuring again. I think the United States could do a better job of this honestly. We get so caught up in our doctrine of freedom of speech that we ignore the inherent human right to safety and peace. Personally, I would be willing to sacrifice a lot to protect others from harm in this way.

With that, you may not agree with any of my thoughts, and that is okay, but I hope that you at least reflected on your own beliefs and actions while reading this blog post. I know I was changed by my experience, and the best thing I can do is try to share that message. Remembering the core of humanity, all of us being the same in every essential way that matters, that is what will help us to improve our world for the next generations.

*****

My next trip will be to the Black Forest, so I will write some more after that, but for the time being, I hope everyone is happy and healthy and loved.

Best wishes always, Meghan