A10491

As a preface I will say that this post (even more so than my other posts from Poland) will be somewhat incoherent….this day has been an experience beyond measurement, beyond words, beyond (at this point) my full comprehension.

We began the day by visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau. For those who do not know, there were three camps at Auschwitz, but is mostly known for two of them: Birkenau was an extermination camp and Auschwitz I was a concentration/work camp. Majdanek pales in comparison to Birkenau (Majdanek had 4 ovens in its single crematorium; Birkenau had a total of 45), since the sheer scale of the murders that occurred on these grounds iss overwhelming and unbearable…I couldn’t even digest the abstract numbers (4,000 bodies could be killed, burnt, and disposed of in twenty-four hours). The efficient industrialization of mass murder and destruction…well, was…and remains, beyond anything I can describe at this moment. It might be sensitivity or weakness on my part to be so affected by these places, but I cannot let them go.

I walked around the barracks, the grounds, the extended train tracks, the memorial. We were there early in the morning so thankfully the camp was silent, as it seems is only proper in a place of such human tragedy. I do not mean to sound repetitive or maudlin here, but I can honestly say that I can’t describe much more of what happened during the visit, because even my journal writings are difficult to piece together. On a random tangent, as you look around the grounds now, you forget one key difference: back then, in 1942, there was no grass. Prisoners walked and toiled in snow or mud and somewhere in that monochromatic landscape, everything was lost to them…there were no flowers peeking from under manicured grass, no trees to serve as background or distraction. The aesthetic beauty and element of familiarity provided for the tourist by the grass is entirely fictional.

After Birkenau we went to Auschwitz I for an organized tour. Irving Roth (I mentioned him in earlier posts; he is the survivor traveling with us) assisted in taking us around our tour which, again (I apologize), an experience I can barely describe. Irving came to Auschwitz when he was 14 years-old, from Hungary. His parents were working in Budapest and were spared as a result, but he arrived with his grandfather, grandmother, aunt, brother, and ten-year old cousin. Only he and his brother survived the first ten minutes, as the selection process sent every other member of his family to the gas chambers immediately upon arrival. Irving talks about having his entire body shaved, about that blue number being tattooed on his arm, about the latrines, the infections and diseases, the food rations as if it were somehow rational…he recognizes the absurdity of it all, but it was still, after all, a reality for him. For the rest of us, it has a far-away tale of absurd atrocities. Now, having had the honor of walking by Irving’s side, I can say (if nothing else at this point), that I will never forget the faded blue number on his forearm: A10491. In the end, he shocked all of us with the vibrancy of his memories and with the joy in his voice, even now. When we were taking a group photo at the end of the day, someone asked if we should smile…Irving, without hesitation, laughed and said, “Of course we should smile! We are all here and alive!”

In between these two camps – at the end of our visit to Birkenau – we gathered around the memorial for our group’s remembrance ceremony. I had been chosen to plan and host it, which I have to admit (as shamed as this makes me) I suddenly and acutely regretted when it came time to hold back my tears and speak to the fifty people in front of me about the importance of hope in the face of such madness. As per usual, several readings were included and the “choir” sang several beautiful songs. I, for one, quoted from the Talmud, saying, “ The Talmud says, “A man who injures a fellow man becomes liable to him for five items: for the wound, the depreciation and pain, for healing, for lost time and for degradation, and pays damages for that accordingly.” Now, today, here I entreat you to focus on the word “healing” and to gain hope and strength from such tragedy by looking at Irving. I also urge all of us to add a sixth item to that list: action. Let us leave here enlivened by a sense of purpose, a willingness to work for our beliefs, and an acute sense of responsibility to our fellow man.” I closed the ceremony by saying, “Let us take what we have seen here today, what we have born witness to all week, and enrich more than just our intellectual piggy-banks; let us gain an understanding of one of the only things that can ever truly be defined as human: the ineffable interdependence between hope, hardship, pain, joy, faith, and survival…and harbor it in our hearts as more than just a memory.” At this point, Irving walked to the front of the group and, before the Kaddish, chanted El Mole Rahamim.

This has been a relatively dry commentary on this day. I apologize for not having the ability to share anything else. In closing, I will say that it was an unbelievable honor to be able to travel with a man like Irving Roth, but that this has been one a very difficult week.