Our guide, Agnes and her driver/husband Peter picked us up at 7am. It is an hour drive, and because by 10 it is very crowded, this was a reasonable plan to give us some elbow room. We all had reservations about going, but after seeing the first group of teens in their matching jackets with Israeli flags on the back, thought differently. There were probably 75-100 . Each small group had large Israeli flags which they carried throughout the grounds. I had a tear in my eye thinking about how their schools are educating these young adults so they understand their history from the inside. Later in the day we saw some other israelis, these being army, in casual uniforms, again carrying the flags. Agnes told us that this is part of their military training.
We first walked through the rows of brick blocks, which was the original camp for political prisoners, Auchwitz. I did not understand that the infamous place of separation upon arrival and the gas chambers is the second camp nearby, Birkenau. The conditions in Auschwitz 1 were in solid buildings but the lives of the prisoners were full of deprivation and terror, and most did not live long because if they weren't tortured, they were hung, gassed or starved to death. In various buildings there are exhibits, the most poignant, collections of what the Soviets found there when liberating the camp, piles of glasses, shoes and hair. The saddest were the cases of baby clothes so lovingly made in crochet and applique.
The facilities in Birkenau were primitive, inhumane and frankly beyond belief. The scope is incomprehensible. As far as the eye can see there are remains of the wooden barracks with just the partial chimneys standing. The lengthy walk to the far end where the factory of gas chamber and crematorium stood cannot prepare you for the spectacle of the realization of the caved in ruin of evil. At one time 60,000 human beings were murdered there daily. The Nazis did accomplish their goal of dark deeds for the most part, so it did bring tears of joy to our eyes to see large groups of young Israeli soldiers carrying their flags back the long pathway from this death factory.
Dinner at Hawelka in the Old Town Square. In the midst of discussing and decompressing from the day of intense sorrow, an amusing situation unfolded at the staid, traditional European restaurant. The tables had been cleared from the large dining room and a group of Polish folk dancers appeared with a small band of musicians. They began to play and dance some jaunty dances in full costume obviously hired for a Japanese tour group on the far side of the room. There were no smiles or even appreciative looks from the group, as hard as the actors tried. Then they started pulling in individuals to follow them in the dances, and suddenly there was an explosion of giggles and frivolity. We enjoyed the entire scene.
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